THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


IL 


TOLD   IN   THE   COFFEE   HOUSE 


Told  in  the  Coffee  House 


Turkish  Tales 


Collected  and  done  into  English 

by 
CYRUS  ADLER  AND  ALLAN  RAMSAY 


New  York 
The  Macmillan  Company 

London:  Macmillan  &  Co.,  Ltd. 
1898 

All  rights  reserved 


COPYRIGHT,  1898, 
BY  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 


J.  S.  Gushing  &  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith. 
Norwood  Mass.  U.S.A. 


PREFACE 

IN  the  course  of  a  number  of  visits  to  Con 
stantinople,  I  became  much  interested  in  the 
tales  that  are  told  in  the  coffee  houses.  These 
are  usually  little  more  than  rooms,  with  walls 
made  of  small  panes  of  glass.  The  furniture 
consists  of  a  tripod  with  a  contrivance  for  hold 
ing  the  kettle,  and  a  fire  to  keep  the  coffee 
boiling.  A  carpeted  bench  traverses  the  entire 
length  of  the  room.  This  is  occupied  by  tur- 
baned  Turks,  their  legs  folded  under  them, 
smoking  nargilehs  or  chibooks  or  cigarettes, 
and  sipping  coffee.  A  few  will  be  engaged  in  a 
game  of  backgammon,  but  the  majority  enter 
into  conversation,  at  first  only  in  syllables,  which 
gradually  gives  rise  to  a  general  discussion. 
Penally,  some  sage  of  the  neighborhood  comes 
in,  and  the  company  appeals  to  him  to  settle 
the  point  at  issue.  This  he  usually  does  by 
telling  a  story  to  illustrate  his  opinion.  Some 
of  the  stories  told  on  these  occasions  are  adap- 


vi  Preface 

tations  of  those  already  known  in  Arabic  and 
Persian  literature,  but  the  Turkish  mind  gives 
them  a  new  setting  and  a  peculiar  philosophy. 
They  are  characteristic  of  the  habits,  customs, 
and  methods  of  thought  of  the  people,  and  for 
this  reason  seem  worthy  of  preservation. 

Two  of  these  tales  have  been  taken  from 
the  Armenian,  and  were  received  from  Dr.  K. 
Ohannassian  of  Constantinople.  For  one,  The 
Merciful  Khan,  I  am  indebted  to  Mr.  George 
Kennan.  None  of  them  has  been  translated 
from  any  book  or  manuscript,  and  all  are,  as 
nearly  as  practicable,  in  the  form  in  which  they 
are  usually  narrated.  Most  of  the  stories  have 
been  collected  by  Mr.  Allan  Ramsay,  who,  by 
a  long  residence  in  Constantinople,  has  had 
special  opportunities  for  learning  to  know  the 
modern  Turk.  It  is  due  to  him,  however,  to 
say  that  for  the  style  and  editing  he  is  in  no 
wise  responsible,  and  that  all  sins  of  omission 
and  commission  must  be  laid  at  my  door. 


CYRUS   ADLER. 


COSMOS  CLUB,  WASHINGTON, 
February  i,  1898. 


CONTENTS 

v 

PAGE 

HOW  THE  HODJA   SAVED   ALLAH  .  ...  I 

BETTER  is  THE  FOLLY  OF  WOMAN  THAN   THE 

WISDOM  OF  MAN  .       ...       .        .13 

THE  HANOUM  AND  THE  UNJUST  CADI         .        .      23 
WHAT  HAPPENED  TO  HADJI,  A  MERCHANT  OF  THE 

BEZESTAN        .        .        .        .        .        .        .      29 

How  THE  JUNKMAN  TRAVELLED  TO  FIND  TREAS 
URE  IN  HIS  OWN  YARD         ....        .      35 

How  CHAPKIN  HALID  BECAME  CHIEF  DETECTIVE      43 
How    COBBLER    AHMET    BECAME    THE     CHIEF 

ASTROLOGER   .        .  .        .        .        .52 

THE  WISE  SON  OF  ALI  PASHA     .        .       i       "-65 
THE  MERCIFUL  KHAN  .        .        .  .        -73 

KING  KARA-KUSH  OF  BITHYNIA  .  .  .  -77 
THE  PRAYER  RUG  AND  THE  DISHONEST  STEWARD  80 
THE  GOOSE,  THE  EYE,  THE  DAUGHTER,  AND  THE 

ARM .        .      84 

THE  FORTY  WISE  MEN        .        .        .  .89 

How  THE  PRIEST  KNEW  THAT  IT  WOULD  SNOW  .    103 

vii 


viii  Contents 

PAGE 

WHO  WAS  THE  THIRTEENTH  SON?       .        .        .107 
PARADISE  SOLD  BY  THE  YARD      .        .        .        .120 

JEW  TURNED  TURK       .        .        .        .  .126 

THE  METAMORPHOSIS    .        .        .        .        .        .130 

THE  CALIF  OMAR          ...        .        .        .138 

KALAIDJI  AYR  AM  OF  BALATA       .        .        .        .140 

How  MEHMET  ALI  PASHA  OF  EGYPT  ADMINIS 
TERED  JUSTICE 144 

How  THE  FARMER  LEARNED  TO  CURE  HIS  WIFE  : 

A  TURKISH  ^Esop 148 

THE  LANGUAGE  OF  BIRDS     ...  153 

THE  SWALLOW'S  ADVICE       .        .        .        .        .     156 

WE  KNOW  NOT  WHAT  THE   DAWN   MAY  BRING 

FORTH    .        .        .        ...        .        .158 

OLD  MEN  MADE  YOUNG       .        .        .        .        .161 

THE  BRIBE -165 

How  THE  DEVIL  LOST  HIS  WAGER      .        .        .169 
THE  EFFECTS  OF  RAKI 172 


HOW   THE   HODJA   SAVED    ALLAH 

jOT  far  from  the  famous  Mosque 
Bayezid  an  old  Hodja  kept  a 
school,  and  very  skilfully  he  taught 
the  rising  generation  the  everlast 
ing  lesson  from  the  Book  of  Books.  Such 
knowledge  had  he  of  human  nature  that  by 
a  glance  at  his  pupil  he  could  at  once  tell 
how  long  it  would  take  him  to  learn  a  quar 
ter  of  the  Koran.  He  was  known  over  the 
whole  Empire  as  the  best  reciter  and  im- 
parter  of  the  Sacred  Writings  of  the  Prophet. 
For  many  years  this  Hodja,  famed  far  and 
wide  as  the  Hodja  of  Hod j as,  had  taught  in 
this  little  school.  The  number  of  times  he 
had  recited  the  Book  with  his  pupils  is  be 
yond  counting;  and  should  we  attempt  to 
consider  how  often  he  must  have  corrected 
B  i 


2  How  the  Hodja  saved  Allah 

them   for   some   misplaced  word,    our  beards 
would  grow  gray  in/  tjhfc/  endeavor. 

Swaying  .tp,  ,and  iio  one  'da.^  as  fast  as  his 
"  *: 


old  -kge"  rwd*^let\:hlmi  ;andt.  reciting  to  his 
pupils  the  latter  part  of  one  of  the  chapters, 
Bakara,  divine  inspiration  opened  his  inward 
eye  and  led  him  to  pause  at  the  following 
sentence:  "And  he  that  spends  his  money  in 
the  ways  of  Allah  is  likened  unto  a  grain  of 
wheat  that  brings  forth  seven  sheaves,  and  in 
each  sheaf  an  hundred  grains;  and  Allah 
giveth  twofold  unto  whom  He  pleaseth."  As 
his  pupils,  one  after  the  other,  recited  this 
verse  to  him,  he  wondered  why  he  had  over 
looked  its  meaning  for  so  many  years.  Fully 
convinced  that  anything  either  given  to  Allah, 
or  in  the  way  that  He  proposes,  was  an 
investment  that  brought  a  percentage  un 
dreamed  of  in  known  commerce,  he  dis 
missed  his  pupils,  and  putting  his  hand  into 
his  bosom  drew  forth  from  the  many  folds  of 
his  dress  a  bag,  and  proceeded  to  count  his 
worldly  possessions. 


How  the  Hodja  saved  Allah  3 

Carefully  and  attentively  he  counted  and 
then  recounted  his  money,  and  found  that  if 
invested  in  the  ways  of  Allah  it  would  bring 
a  return  of  no  less  than  one  thousand  piasters. 

"Think  of  it,"  said  the  Hodja  to  himself, 
"one  thousand  piasters!  One  thousand  pias 
ters!  Mashallah!  a  fortune." 

So,  having  dismissed  his  school,  he  sallied 
forth,  his  bag  of  money  in  his  hand,  and 
began  distributing  its  contents  to  the  needy 
that  he  met  in  the  highways.  Ere  many 
hours  had  passed  the  whole  of  his  savings  was 
gone.  The  Hodja  was  very  happy;  for  now 
he  was  the  creditor  in  Allah's  books  for  one 
thousand  piasters. 

He  returned  to  his  house  and  ate  his  even 
ing  meal  of  bread  and  olives,  and  was  content. 

The  next  day  came.  The  thousand  piasters 
had  not  yet  arrived.  He  ate  his  bread,  he 
imagined  he  had  olives,  and  was  content. 

The  third  day  came.  The  old  Hodja  had 
no  bread  and  he  had  no  olives.  He  suffered 
the  pangs  of  hunger.  So  when  the  end  of  the 


4  How  the  Hodja  saved  Allah 

day  had  come,  and  his  pupils  had  departed  to 
their  homes,  the  Hodja,  with  a  full  heart  and 
an  empty  stomach,  walked  out  of  the  town, 
and  soon  got  beyond  the  city  walls. 

There,  where  no  one  could  hear  him,  he 
lamented  his  sad  fate,  and  the  great  calamity 
that  had  befallen  him  in  his  old  age. 

What  sin  had  he  committed?  What  great 
wrong  had  his  ancestors  done,  that  the  wrath 
of  the  Almighty  had  thus  fallen  on  him,  when 
his  earthly  course  was  well-nigh  run? 

"Ya!  Allah!  Allah!"  he  cried,  and  beat 
his  breast. 

As  if  in  answer  to  his  cry,  the  howl  of  the 
dreaded  Fakir  Dervish  came  over  across  the 
plain.  In  those  days  the  Fakir  Dervish  was 
a  terror  in  the  land.  He  knocked  at  the  door, 
and  it  was  opened.  He  asked,  and  received 
food.  If  refused,  life  often  paid  the  penalty. 

The  Hodja' s  lamentations  were  now  greater 
than  ever;  for  should  the  Dervish  ask  him  for 
food  and  the  Hodja  have  nothing  to  give,  he 
would  certainly  be  killed. 


How  the  Hodja  saved  Allah  5 

"Allah!  Allah!  Allah!  Guide  me  now. 
Protect  one  of  your  faithful  followers,"  cried 
the  frightened  Hodja,  and  he  looked  around 
to  see  if  there  was  any  one  to  rescue  him  from 
his  perilous  position.  But  not  a  soul  was  to 
be  seen,  and  the  walls  of  the  city  were  five 
miles  distant.  Just  then  the  howl  of  the  Der 
vish  again  reached  his  ear,  and  in  terror  he 
flew,  he  knew  not  whither.  As  luck  would 
have  it  he  came  upon  a  tree,  up  which,  al 
though  stiff  from  age  and  weak  from  want, 
the  Hodja,  with  wonderful  agility,  scrambled 
and,  trembling  like  a  leaf,  awaited  his 
fate. 

Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  howling  Der 
vish,  till  at  last  his  long  hair  could  be  seen 
floating  in  the  air,  as  with  rapid  strides 
he  preceded  the  wind  upon  his  endless 
journey. 

On  and  on  he  came,  his  wild  yell  sending 
the  blood,  from  very  fear,  to  unknown  parts  of 
the  poor  Hodja' s  body  and  leaving  his  face  as 
yellow  as  a  melon. 


6  How  the  Hodja  saved  Allah 

To  his  utter  dismay,  the  Hodja  saw  the  Der 
vish  approach  the  tree  and  sit  down  under  its 
shade. 

Sighing  deeply,  the  Dervish  said  in  a  loud 
voice,  "Why  have  I  come  into  this  world? 
Why  were  my  forefathers  born?  Why  was 
anybody  born?  Oh,  Allah!  Oh,  Allah!  What 
have  you  done !  Misery !  Misery !  Nothing 
but  misery  to  mankind  and  everything  living. 
Shall  I  not  be  avenged  for  all  the  misery  my 
father  and  my  father's  fathers  have  suffered? 
I  shall  be  avenged." 

Striking  his  chest  a  loud  blow,  as  if  to  em 
phasize  the  decision  he  had  come  to,  the  Der 
vish  took  a  small  bag  that  lay  by  his  side,  and 
slowly  proceeded  to  untie  the  leather  strings 
that  bound  it.  Bringing  forth  from  it  a  small 
image,  he  gazed  at  it  a  moment  and  then  ad 
dressed  it  in  the  following  terms: 

"You,  Job!  you  bore  much;  you  have  writ 
ten  a  book  in  which  your  history  is  recorded; 
you  have  earned  the  reputation  of  being  the 
most  patient  man  that  ever  lived;  yet  I  have 


How  the  Hodja  saved  Allah  7 

read  your  history  and  found  that  when  real 
affliction  oppressed  you,  you  cursed  God. 
You  have  made  men  believe,  too,  that  there 
is  a  reward  in  this  life  for  all  the  afflictions 
they  suffer.  You  have  misled  mankind.  For 
these  sins  no  one  has  ever  punished  you. 
Now  I  will  punish  you,"  and  taking  his  long, 
curved  sword  in  his  hand  he  cut  off  the  head 
of  the  figure. 

The  Dervish  bent  forward,  took  another 
image  and,  gazing  upon  it  with  a  contemptu 
ous  smile,  thus  addressed  it: 

"  David,  David,  singer  of  songs  of  peace  in 
this  world  and  in  the  world  to  come,  I  have 
read  your  sayings  in  which  you  counsel  men  to 
lead  a  righteous  life  for  the  sake  of  the  re 
ward  which  they  are  to  receive.  I  have 
learned  that  you  have  misled  your  fellow- 
mortals  with  your  songs  of  peace  and  joy,  I 
have  read  your  history,  and  I  find  that  you 
have  committed  many  sins.  For  these  sins 
and  for  misleading  your  fellowmen  you  have 
never  been  punished.  Now  I  will  punish 


8  How  the  Hodja  saved  Allah 

you,"  and  taking  his  sword  in  his  hand  he  cut 
off  David's  head. 

Again  the  Dervish  bent  forward  and  brought 
forth  an  image  which  he  addressed  as  follows : 

"You,  Solomon,  are  reputed  to  have  been 
the  wisest  man  that  ever  lived.  You  had 
command  over  the  host  of  the  Genii  and 
could  control  the  legion  of  the  demons.  They 
came  at  the  bidding  of  your  signet  ring,  and 
they  trembled  at  the  mysterious  names  to 
which  you  gave  utterance.  You  understood 
every  living  thing.  The  speech  of  the  beasts 
of  the  field,  of  the  birds  of  the  air,  of  the 
insects  of  the  earth,  and  of  the  fishes  of  the 
sea,  was  known  unto  you.  Yet  when  I  read 
your  history  I  found  that  in  spite  of  the  vast 
knowledge  that  was  vouchsafed  unto  you,  you 
committed  many  wrongs  and  did  many  fool 
ish  things,  which  in  the  end  brought  misery 
into  the  world  and  destruction  unto  your  peo 
ple;  and  for  all  these  no  one  has  ever  pun 
ished  you.  Now  I  will  punish  you,"  and 
taking  his  sword  he  cut  off  Solomon's  head. 


How  the  Hodja  saved  Allah  9 

Again  the  Dervish  bent  forward  and  brought 
forth  from  the  bag  another  figure,  which  he 
addressed  thus: 

"Jesus,  Jesus,  prophet  of  God,  you  came 
into  this  world  to  atone,  by  giving  your  blood, 
for  the  sins  of  mankind  and  to  bring  unto 
them  a  religion  of  peace.  You  founded  a 
church,  whose  history  I  have  studied,  and  I 
see  that  it  set  fathers  against  their  children 
and  brethren  against  one  another;  that  it 
brought  strife  into  the  world;  that  the  lives 
of  men  and  women  and  children  were  sacri 
ficed  so  that  the  rivers  ran  red  with  blood  unto 
the  seas.  Truly  you  were  a  great  prophet,  but 
the  misery  you  caused  must  be  avenged.  For 
it  no  one  has  yet  punished  you.  Now  I  will 
punish  you,"  and  he  took  his  sword  and  cut 
off  Jesus'  head. 

With  a  sorrowful  face  the  Dervish  bent  for 
ward  and  brought  forth  another  image  from 
the  bag. 

"Mohammed,"  he  said,  "I  have  slain  Job, 
David,  Solomon,  and  Jesus.  What  shall  I 


io  How  the  Hodja  saved  Allah 

do  with  you?  After  the  followers  of  Jesus 
had  shed  much  blood,  their  religion  spread 
over  the  world,  was  acceptable  unto  man,  and 
the  nations  were  at  peace.  Then  you  came 
into  the  world,  and  you  brought  a  new  relig 
ion,  and  father  rose  against  father,  and  brother 
rose  against  brother;  hatred  was  sown  between 
your  followers  and  the  followers  of  Jesus,  and 
again  the  rivers  ran  red  with  blood  unto  the 
seas;  and  you  have  not  been  punished.  For 
this  I  will  punish  you.  By  the  beard  of  my 
forefathers,  whose  blood  was  made  to  flow 
in  your  cause,  you  too  must  die,"  and  with 
a  blow  the  head  of  Mohammed  fell  to  the 
ground. 

Then  the  Dervish  prostrated  himself  to 
the  earth,  and  after  a  silent  prayer  rose  and 
brought  forth  from  the  bag  the  last  figure. 
Reverently  he  bowed  to  it,  and  then  he  ad 
dressed  it  as  follows : 

"Oh,  Allah!  The  Allah  of  Allahs.  There 
is  but  one  Allah,  and  thou  art  He.  I  have 
slain  Job,  David,  Solomon,  Jesus,  and  Mo- 


How  the  Hodja  saved  Allah  n 

hammed  for  the  folly  that  they  have  brought 
into  the  world.  Thou,  God,  art  all  powerful. 
All  men  are  thy  children,  thou  Greatest  them 
and  bringest  them  into  the  world.  The 
thoughts  that  they  think  are  thy  thoughts. 
If  all  these  men  have  brought  all  this  evil 
into  the  world,  it  is  thy  fault.  Shall  I  punish 
them  and  allow  thee  to  go  unhurt?  No.  I 
must  punish  thee  also,"  and  he  raised  his 
sword  to  strike. 

As  the  sword  circled  in  the  air  the  Hodja, 
secreted  in  the  tree,  forgot  the  fear  in  which 
he  stood  of  the  Dervish.  In  the  excitement 
of  the  moment  he  cried  out  in  a  loud  tone  of 
voice :  "  Stop !  Stop !  He  owes  me  one  thou 
sand  piasters." 

The  Dervish  reeled  and  fell  senseless  to  the 
ground.  The  Hodja  was  overcome  at  his  own 
words  and  trembled  with  fear,  convinced  that 
his  last  hour  had  arrived.  The  Dervish  lay 
stretched  upon  his  back  on  the  grass  like  one 
dead.  At  last  the  Hodja  took  courage. 
Breaking  a  twig  from  off  the  tree,  he  threw  it 


12  How  the  Hodja  saved  Allah 

down  upon  the  Dervish's  face,  but  the  Dervish 
made  no  sign.  The  Hodja  took  more  cour 
age,  removed  one  of  his  heavy  outer  shoes 
and  threw  it  on  the  outstretched  figure  of  the 
Dervish,  but  still  the  Dervish  lay  motionless. 
The  Hodja  caref^Iy  climbed  down  the  tree, 
gave  the  body  of  the  Dervish  a  kick,  and 
climbed  back  again,  and  still  the  Dervish  did 
not  stir.  At  length  the  Hodja  descended  from 
the  tree  and  placed  his  ear  to  the  Dervish's 
heart.  It  did  not  beat.  The  Dervish  was  dead. 

"Ah,  well,"  said  the  Hodja,  "at  least  I  shall 
not  starve.  I  will  take  his  garments  and  sell 
them  and  buy  me  some  bread." 

The  Hodja  commenced  to  remove  the  Der 
vish's  garments.  As  he  took  off  his  belt  he 
found  that  it  was  heavy.  He  opened  it,  and 
saw  that  it  contained  gold.  He  counted 
the  gold  and  found  that  it  was  exactly  one 
thousand  piasters. 

The  Hodja  turned  his  face  toward  Mecca 
and  raising  his  eyes  to  heaven  said,  "Oh 
God,  you  have  kept  your  promise,  but,"  he 
added,  "not  before  I  saved  your  life." 


BETTER   IS   THE   FOLLY   OF  WOMAN 
THAN    THE   WISDOM    OF    MAN 

DHERE  lived  in  Constantinople  an 
old  Hodja,  a  learned  man,  who 
had  a  son.  The  boy  followed  in 
his  father's  footsteps,  went  every 
day  to  the  Mosque  Aya  Sofia,  seated  him 
self  in  a  secluded  spot,  to  the  left  of  the  pillar 
bearing  the  impress  of  the  Conqueror's  hand, 
and  engaged  in  the  study  of  the  Koran.  Daily 
he  might  be  seen  seated,  swaying  his  body  to 
and  fro,  and  reciting  to  himself  the  verses  of 
the  Holy  Book. 

The  dearest  wish  of  a  Mohammedan  theo 
logical  student  is  to  be  able  to  recite  the  en 
tire  Koran  by  heart.  Many  years  are  spent  in 
memorizing  the  Holy  Book,  which  must  be 
recited  with  a  prescribed  cantillation,  and  in 
13 


14  Better  is  the  Folly  of  Woman 

acquiring  a  rhythmical  movement  of  the  body 
which  accompanies  the  chant. 

When  Abdul,  for  that  was  the  young  man's 
name,  had  reached  his  nineteenth  year,  he  had, 
by  the  most  assiduous  study,  finally  succeeded 
in  mastering  three-fourths  of  the  Koran.  At 
this  achievement  his  pride  rose,  his  ambition 
was  fired,  and  he  determined  to  become  a 
great  man. 

The  day  that  he  reached  this  decision  he 
did  not  go  to  the  Mosque,  but  stopped  at  home, 
in  his  father's  house,  and  sat  staring  at  the  fire 
burning  in  the  grate.  Several  times  the  father 
asked : 

"My  son,  what  do  you  see  in  the  fire?" 

And  each  time  the  son  answered: 

"Nothing,  father." 

He  was  very  young;  he  could  not  see. 

Finally,  the  young  man  picked  up  courage 
and  gave  expression  to  his  thoughts. 

"Father,"  he  said,  "I  wish  to  become  a 
great  man." 

"That  is  very  easy,"  said  the  father. 


Than  the   Wisdom  of  Man  15 

"And  to  be  a  great  man,"  continued  the  son, 
"I  must  first  go  to  Mecca."  For  no  Mo 
hammedan  priest  or  theologian,  or  even  lay 
man,  has  fulfilled  all  of  the  cardinal  precepts 
of  his  faith  unless  he  has  made  the  pilgrimage 
to  the  Holy  City. 

To  his  son's  last  observation  the  father 
blandly  replied:  "It  is  very  easy  to  go  to 
Mecca." 

"How,  easy?"  asked  the  son.  "On  the 
contrary,  it  is  very  difficult;  for  the  journey 
is  costly,  and  I  have  no  money." 

"Listen,  my  son,"  said  the  father.  "You 
must  become  a  scribe,  the  writer  of  the  thoughts 
of  your  brethren,  and  your  fortune  is  made." 

"But  I  have  not  even  the  implements  ne 
cessary  for  a  scribe,"  said  the  son. 

"All  that  can  be  easily  arranged,"  said  the 
father;  "your  grandfather  had  an  ink-horn; 
I  will  give  it  you;  I  will  buy  you  some 
writing-paper,  and  we  will  get  you  a  box  to 
sit  in;  all  that  you  need  to  do  is  to  sit  still, 
look  wise  and  your  fortune  is  made." 


1 6  Better  is  the  Folly  of  Woman 

And  indeed  the  advice  was  good.  For 
letter-writing  is  an  art  which  only  the  few 
possess.  The  ability  to  write  by  no  means 
carries  with  it  the  ability  to  compose.  Epis 
tolary  genius  is  rare. 

Abdul  was  much  rejoiced  at  the  counsel  that 
had  been  given  him,  and  lost  no  time  in  car 
rying  out  the  plan.  He  took  his  grandfather's 
ink-horn,  the  paper  his  father  bought,  got  him 
self  a  box  and  began  his  career  as  a  scribe. 

Abdul  was  a  child,  he  knew  nothing,  but 
deeming  himself  wise  he  sought  to  surpass  the 
counsel  of  his  father. 

"To  look  wise,"  he  said,  "is  not  sufficient; 
I  must  have  some  other  attraction." 

And  after  much  thought  he  hit  upon  the 
following  idea.  Over  his  box  he  painted  a 
legend:  "The  wisdom  of  man  is  greater  than 
the  wisdom  of  woman."  People  thought  the 
sign  very  clever,  customers  came,  the  young 
Hodja  took  in  many  piasters  and  he  was  cor 
respondingly  happy. 

This  sign  one  day  attracted  the  eyes   and 


Than  the   Wisdom  of  Man  1 7 

mind  of  a  Hanoum  (Turkish  lady).  Seeing 
that  Abdul  was  a  manly  youth,  she  went  to  him 
and  said: 

"Hodja,  I  have  a  difficult  letter  to  write. 
I  have  heard  that  thou  art  very  wise,  so  I 
have  come  to  thee.  To  write  the  letter  thou 
wilt  need  all  thy  wit.  Moreover,  the  let 
ter  is  a  long  one,  and  I  cannot  stand  here 
while  it  is  being  written.  Come  to  my  Konak 
(house)  at  three  this  afternoon,  and  we  will 
write  the  letter." 

The  Hodja  was  overcome  with  admiration 
for  his  fair  client,  and  surprised  at  the  invi 
tation.  He  was  enchanted,  his  heart  beat 
wildly,  and  so  great  was  his  agitation  that  his 
reply  of  acquiescence  was  scarcely  audible. 

The  invitation  had  more  than  the  charm  of 
novelty  to  make  it  attractive.  He  had  never 
talked  with  a  woman  outside  of  his  own  family 
circle.  To  be  admitted  to  a  lady's  house  was 
in  itself  an  adventure. 

Long  before  the  appointed  time,  the  young 
Hodja  —  impetuous  youth  —  gathered  together 


1 8  Better  is  the  Folly  of  Woman 

his  reeds,  ink,  and  sand.  With  feverish  step 
he  wended  his  way  to  the  house.  Lattices 
covered  the  windows,  a  high  wall  surrounded 
the  garden,  and  a  ponderous  gate  barred  the 
entrance.  Thrice  he  raised  the  massive 
knocker. 

"Who  is  there?"  called  a  voice  from  within. 

"The  scribe,''  was  the  reply. 

"It  is  well,"  said  the  porter;  the  gate  was 
unbarred,  and  the  Hodja  permitted  to  enter. 
Directly  he  was  ushered  into  the  apartment  of 
his  fair  client. 

The  lady  welcomed  him  cordially. 

"Ah!  Hodja  Effendi,  I  am  glad  to  see  you; 
pray  sit  down." 

The  Hodja  nervously  pulled  out  his  writing- 
implements. 

"Do  not  be  in  such  a  hurry,"  said  the  lady. 
"Refresh  yourself;  take  a  cup  of  coffee,  smoke 
a  cigarette,  and  we  will  write  the  letter  after 
wards." 

So  he  lit  a  cigarette,  drank  a  cup  of  coffee, 
and  they  fell  to  talking.  Time  flew;  the 


Than  the   Wisdom  of  Man  19 

minutes  seemed  like  seconds,  and  the  hours 
were  as  minutes.  While  they  were  thus  en 
joying  themselves  there  suddenly  came  a  heavy 
knock  at  the  gate. 

"It  is  my  husband,  the  Pasha,"  cried  the 
lady.  "What  shall  I  do?  If  he  finds  you 
here,  he  will  kill  you!  I  am  so  frightened." 

The  Hodja  was  frightened  too.  Again  there 
came  a  knock  at  the  gate. 

"I  have  it,"  and  taking  Abdul  by  the  arm, 
she  said,  "you  must  get  into  the  box,"  indicat 
ing  a  large  chest  in  the  room.  "  Quick,  quick, 
if  you  prize  your  life  utter  not  a  word,  and 
Inshallah  I  will  save  you." 

Abdul  now,  too  late,  saw  his  folly.  It  was 
his  want  of  experience;  but  driven  by  the  sense 
of  danger,  he  entered  the  chest;  the  lady  locked 
it  and  took  the  key. 

A  moment  afterwards  the  Pasha  came  in. 

"I  am  very  tired,"  he  said;  "bring  me 
coffee  and  a  chibook." 

"  Good  evening,  Pasha  Effendi,"  said  the  lady. 
"Sit  down.  I  have  something  to  tell  you." 


2O  Better  is  the  Folly  of  Woman 

"Bah!"  said  the  Pasha;  "I  want  none  of 
your  woman's  talk;  'the  hair  of  woman  is  long, 
and  her  wits  are  short, '  says  the  proverb.  Bring 
me  my  pipe." 

"But,  Pasha  Effendi,"  said  the  lady,  "I 
have  had  an  adventure  to-day." 

"Bah!"  said  the  Pasha;  "what  adventure 
can  a  woman  have  —  forgot  to  paint  your  eye 
brows  or  color  your  nails,  I  suppose." 

"  No,  Pasha  Effendi.  Be  patient,  and  I  will 
tell  you.  I  went  out  to-day  to  write  a  letter." 

"  A  letter?  "  said  the  Pasha;  "  to  whom  would 
you  write  a  letter?" 

"Be  patient,"  she  said,  "and  I  will  tell  you 
my  story.  So  I  came  to  the  box  of  a  young 
scribe  with  beautiful  eyes." 

"A  young  man  with  beautiful  eyes,"  shouted 
the  Pasha.  "Where  is  he?  I'll  kill  him!" 
and  he  drew  his  sword. 

The  Hodja  in  the  chest  heard  every  word 
and  trembled  in  every  limb. 

"  Be  patient,  Pasha  Effendi ;  I  said  I  had  an 
adventure,  and  you  did  not  believe  me.  I  told 


Than  the   Wisdom  of  Man  21 

the  young  man  that  the  letter  was  long,  and  I 
could  not  stand  in  the  street  to  write  it.  So 
I  asked  him  to  come  and  see  me  this  after 
noon." 

"Here?  to  this  house?"  thundered  the 
Pasha. 

"Yes,  Pasha  Effendi,"  said  the  lady.  "So 
the  Hodja  came  here,  and  I  gave  him  coffee 
and  a  cigarette,  and  we  talked,  and  the  min 
utes  seemed  like  seconds,  and  the  hours  were 
as  minutes.  All  at  once  came  your  knock 
at  the  gate,  and  I  said  to  the  Hodja,  'That  is 
the  Pasha;  and  if  he  finds  you  here,  he  will  kill 
you.'" 

"And  I  will  kill  him,"  screamed  the  Pasha, 
"where  is  he?" 

"Be  patient,  Pasha  Effendi,"  said  the  lady, 
"and  I  will  tell  you.  When  you  knocked  a 
second  time,  I  suddenly  thought  of  the  chest, 
and  I  put  the  Hodja  in." 

"Let  me  at  him!"  screamed  the  Pasha. 
"I'll  cut  off  his  head!" 

"O  Pasha,"  she  said,  "what  a  hurry  you  are 


22  Better  is  the  Folly  of  Woman 

in  to  slay  this  comely  youth.  He  is  your  prey ; 
he  cannot  escape  you.  The  youth  is  not  only 
in  the  box,  but  it  is  locked,  and  the  key  is  in 
my  pocket.  Here  it  is." 

The  lady  walked  over  to  the  Pasha,  stretched 
out  her  hand  and  gave  him  the  key. 

As  he  took  it,  she  said : 

"Philopena!" 

"  Bah !  "  said  the  Pasha,  in  disgust.  He  threw 
the  key  on  the  floor  and  left  the  harem,  slam 
ming  the  door  behind  him. 

After  he  had  gone,  the  lady  took  up  the  key, 
unlocked  the  door,  and  let  out  the  trembling 
Hodja. 

"Go  now,  Hodja,  to  your  box,"  she  said. 
"Take  down  your  sign  and  write  instead:  'The 
wit  of  woman  is  twofold  the  wit  of  man, '  for  I 
am  a  woman,  and  in  one  day  I  have  fooled  two 
men." 


THE   HANOUM   AND  THE  UNJUST 
CADI 

|T  was,  and  still  is,  in  some  parts  of 
Constantinople,  the  custom  of  the 
refuse-gatherer  to  go  about  the 
streets  with  a  basket  on  his 
back,  and  a  wooden  shovel  in  his  hand, 
calling  out  '  refuse  removed. ' 

A  certain  Chepdji,  plying  his  trade,  had,  in 
the  course  of  five  years  of  assiduous  labor, 
amassed,  to  him,  the  no  unimportant  sum  of 
five  hundred  piasters.  He  was  afraid  to  keep 
this  money  by  him;  so  hearing  the  Cadi  of 
Stamboul  highly  and  reverently  spoken  of,  he 
decided  to  entrust  his  hard-earned  savings  to 
the  Cadi's  keeping. 

Going  to  the  Cadi,  he  said:   "Oh  learned 
and  righteous  man,    for  five  long  years  have 
I  labored,  carrying  the  dregs  and  dross  of  rich 
23 


24      The  Hanoum  and  the  Unjust  Cadi 

and  poor  alike,  and  I  have  saved  a  sum  of  five 
hundred  piasters.  With  the  help  of  Allah,  in 
another  two  years  I  shall  have  saved  a  further 
sum  of  at  least  one  hundred  piasters,  when, 
Inshallah,  I  shall  return  to  my  country  and 
clasp  my  wife  and  children  again.  In  the 
meantime  you  will  be  granting  a  boon  to  your 
slave,  if  you  will  consent  to  keep  this  money 
for  me  until  the  time  for  departure  has  come." 

The  Cadi  replied:  "Thou  hast  done  well, 
my  son;  the  money  will  be  kept  and  given  to 
thee  when  required." 

The  poor  Chepdji,  well  satisfied,  departed. 
But  after  a  very  short  time  he  learned  that 
several  of  his  friends  were  about  to  return  to 
their  Memleket  (province),  and  he  decided  to 
join  them,  thinking  that  his  five  hundred 
piasters  were  ample  for  the  time  being,  'Be 
sides,'  said  he,  '  who  knows  what  may  or  may 
not  happen  in  the  next  two  years  ? '  So  he 
decided  to  depart  with  his  friends  at  once. 

He  went  to  the  Cadi,  explained  that  he  had 
changed  his  mind,  that  he  was  going  to  leave 


The  Hanoum  and  the  Unjust  Cadi      25 

for  his  country  immediately,  and  asked  for 
his  money.  The  Cadi  called  him  a  dog  and 
ordered  him  to  be  whipped  out  of  the  place 
by  his  servants.  Alas!  what  could  the  poor 
Chepdji  do!  He  wept  in  impotent  despair, 
as  he  counted  the  number  of  years  he  must 
yet  work  before  beholding  his  loved  ones. 

One  day,  while  moving  the  dirt  from  the 
Konak  of  a  wealthy  Pasha,  his  soul  uttered  a 
sigh  which  reached  the  ears  of  the  Hanoum, 
and  from  the  window  she  asked  him  why  he 
sighed  so  deeply.  He  replied  that  he  sighed 
for  something  that  could  in  no  way  interest 
her.  The  Hanoum' s  sympathy  was  excited, 
and  after  much  persuasion,  he  finally,  with 
tears  in  his  eyes,  related  to  her  his  great 
niisfortune.  The  Hanoum  thought  for  a  few 
minutes  and  then  told  him  to  go  the  follow 
ing  day  to  the  Cadi  at  a  certain  hour  and 
again  ask  for  the  money  as  if  nothing  had 
happened. 

The  Hanoum  in  the  meantime  gathered 
together  a  quantity  of  jewelry,  to  the  value 


26       The  Hanoum  and  the  Unjust  Cadi 

of  several  hundred  pounds,  and  instructed  her 
favorite  and  confidential  slave  to  come  with 
her  to  the  Cadi  and  remain  outside  whilst  she 
went  in,  directing  her  that  when  she  saw  the 
Chepdji  come  out  and  learned  that  he  had 
gotten  his  money,  to  come  in  the  Cadi's  room 
hurriedly  and  say  to  her,  "  your  husband  has 
arrived  from  Egypt,  and  is  waiting  for  you  at 
the  Konak." 

The  Hanoum  then  went  to  the  Cadi,  carry 
ing  in  her  hand  a  bag  containing  the  jewelry. 
With  a  profound  salaam  she  said: 

"  Oh  Cadi,  my  husband,  who  is  in  Egypt  and 
who  has  been  there  for  several  years,  has  at  last 
asked  me  to  come  and  join  him  there;  these 
jewels  are  of  great  value,  and  I  hesitate  to  take 
them  with  me  on  so  long  and  dangerous  a 
journey.  If  you  would  kindly  consent  to 
keep  them  for  me  until  my  return,  or  if  I 
never  return  to  keep  them  as  a  token  of  my 
esteem,  I  will  think  of  you  with  lifelong 
gratitude." 

The  Hanoum  then  began  displaying  the  rich 


The  Hanoum  and  the  Unjust  Cadi      27 

jewelry.  Just  then  the  Chepdji  entered,  and 
bending  low,  said: 

"Oh  master,  your  slave  has  come  for  his 
savings  in  order  to  proceed  to  his  country." 

"Ah,  welcome,"  said  the  Cadi,  "so  you 
are  going  already !  "  and  immediately  ordered 
the  treasurer  to  pay  the  five  hundred  piasters 
to  the  Chepdji. 

"You  see,"  said  the  Cadi  to  the  Hanoum, 
"what  confidence  the  people  have  in  me. 
This  money  I  have  held  for  some  time  without 
receipt  or  acknowledgment;  but  directly  it  is 
asked  for  it  is  paid." 

No  sooner  had  the  Chepdji  gone  out  of  the 
door,  than  the  Hanoum' s  slave  came  rushing 
in,  crying :  "  Hanoum  Effendi !  Hanoum 
Effendi !  Your  husband  has  arrived  from 
Egypt,  and  is  anxiously  awaiting  you  at  the 
Konak." 

The  Hanoum,  in  well-feigned  excitement, 
gathered  up  her  jewelry  and,  wishing  the  Cadi 
a  thousand  years  of  happiness,  departed. 

The  Cadi  was  thunderstruck,  and  caressing 


28       TJie  Hanoum  and  the  Unjust  Cadi 

his  beard  with  grave  affection  thoughtfully 
said:  "Allah!  Allah!  For  forty  years  have  I 
been  judge,  but  never  was  a  cause  pleaded  in 
this  fashion  before." 


WHAT  HAPPENED  TO  HADJI,  A  MER 
CHANT   OF   THE   BEZESTAN 

JADJI  was  a  married  man,  but  even 
Turkish  married  men  are  not  in 
vulnerable  to  the  charms  of  other 
women.  It  happened  one  day,  when 
possibly  the  engrossing  power  of  his  lawful  wife's 
influence  was  feeble  upon  him,  that  a  charming 
Hanoum  came  to  his  shop  to  purchase  some 
spices.  After  the  departure  of  his  fair  visitor 
Hadji,  do  what  he  might,  could  not  drive  from 
his  mind's  eye,  either  her  image,  or  her  attrac 
tive  power.  He  was  further  greatly  puzzled 
by  a  tiny  black  bag  containing  twelve  grains 
of  wheat,  which  the  Hanoum  had  evidently 
forgotten. 

Till  a  late  hour  that  night  did  Hadji  remain 
in  his  shop,  in  the  hope  that  either  the  Hanoum 
or  one  of  her  servants  would  come  for  the  bag, 
29 


30  What  happened  to  Hadji 

and  thus  give  him  the  means  of  seeing  her 
again  or  at  least  of  learning  where  she  lived. 
But  Hadji  was  doomed  to  disappointment,  and, 
much  preoccupied,  he  returned  to  his  home. 
There  he  sat,  unresponsive  to  his  wife's  conver 
sation,  thinking,  and  no  doubt  making  mental 
comparisons  between  her  and  his  visitor. 

Hadji  remained  downcast  day  after  day,  and 
at  last,  giving  way  to  his  wife's  entreaties  to 
share  his  troubles,  he  frankly  told  her  what  had 
happened,  and  that  ever  since  that  day  his  soul 
was  in  his  visitor's  bondage. 

"  Oh  husband,"  replied  his  wife,  "  and  do  you 
not  understand  what  that  black  bag  containing 
the  twelve  grains  of  wheat  means  ?  " 

"Alas!  no,"  replied  Hadji. 

"Why,  my  husband,  it  is  plain,  plain  as  if  it 
had  been  told.  She  lives  in  the  Wheat  Market, 
at  house  No.  12,  with  a  black  door." 

Much  excited,  Hadji  rushed  off  and  found 
that  there  was  a  No.  12  in  the  Wheat  Market, 
with  a  black  door,  so  he  promptly  knocked. 
The  door  opened,  and  who  should  he  behold 


A  Merchant  of  the  Bezestan  31 

but  the  lady  in  question  ?  She,  however,  instead 
of  speaking  to  him,  threw  a  basin  of  water  out 
into  the  street  and  then  shut  the  door.  Hadji, 
with  mingled  feelings  of  gratitude  to  his  wife  for 
having  so  accurately  directed  him,  but  none  the 
less  surprised  at  his  reception,  lingered  about 
the  doorway  for  a  time  and  then  returned 
home.  He  greeted  his  wife  more  pleasantly 
than  he  had  for  many  days,  and  told  her  of 
his  strange  reception. 

"Why,"  said  his  wife,  "don't  you  understand 
what  the  basin  of  water  thrown  out  of  the  door 
means?  " 

"  Alas  !  no,"  said  Hadji. 

"  Veyh  !  Veyh  !  (an  exclamation  of  pity)  it 
means  that  at  the  back  of  the  house  there  is  a 
running  stream,  and  that  you  must  go  to  her 
that  way." 

Off  rushed  Hadji  and  found  that  his  wife  was 
right ;  there  was  a  running  stream  at  the  back 
of  the  house,  so  he  knocked  at  the  back  door. 
The  Hanoum,  however,  instead  of  opening  it, 
came  to  the  window,  showed  a  mirror,  reversed 


32  What  happened  to  Hadji 

it  and  then  disappeared.  Hadji  lingered  at 
the  back  of  the  house  for  a  long  time,  but 
seeing  no  further  sign  of  life,  he  returned 
to  his  home  much  dejected.  On  entering  the 
house,  his  wife  greeted  him  with  :  "  Well,  was 
it  not  as  I  told  you?" 

"Yes,"  said  Hadji.  "You  are  truly  a  won 
derful  woman,  Mashallah  !  But  I  do  not  know 
why  she  came  to  the  window  and  showed  me 
a  mirror  both  in  front  and  back,  instead  of 
opening  the  door." 

"  Oh,"  said  his  wife,  "  that  is  very  simple ;  she 
means  that  you  must  go  when  the  face  of  the 
moon  has  reversed  itself,  about  ten  o'clock." 
The  hour  arrived,  Hadji  hurried  off,  and  so 
did  his  wife  \  the  one  to  see  his  love,  and  the 
other  to  inform  the  police. 

Whilst  Hadji  and  his  charmer  were  talking  in 
the  garden  the  police  seized  them  and  carried 
them  both  off  to  prison,  and  Hadji's  wife, 
having  accomplished  her  mission,  returned 
home. 

The  next  morning  she  baked  a  quantity  of 


A  Merchant  of  the  Bezestan  33 

lokum  cakes,  and  taking  them  to  the  prison, 
begged  entrance  of  the  guards  and  per 
mission  to  distribute  these  cakes  to  the 
prisoners,  for  the  repose  of  the  souls  of  her 
dead.  This  being  a  request  which  could  not 
be  denied,  she  was  allowed  to  enter.  Finding 
the  cell  in  which  the  lady  who  had  infatuated 
her  husband  was  confined,  she  offered  to  save 
her  the  disgrace  of  the  exposure,  provided 
she  would  consent  never  again  to  look  upon 
Hadji,  the  merchant,  with  envious  or  loving 
eyes.  The  conditions  were  gratefully  accepted, 
and  Hadji's  wife  changed  places  with  the 
prisoner. 

When  they  were  brought  before  the  judge, 
Hadji  was  thunderstruck  to  see  his  wife,  but 
being  a  wise  man  he  held  his  peace,  and  left 
her  to  do  the  talking,  which  she  did  most 
vigorously,  vehemently  protesting  against  the 
insult  inflicted  on  both  her  and  her  husband 
in  bringing  them  to  prison,  because  they  chose 
to  converse  in  a  garden,  being  lawfully  wedded 
people;  in  witness  whereof,  she  called  upon 


34  What  happened  to  Hadji 

the  Bekdji  (watchman)  and  the  Imam  (priest) 
of  the  district  and  several  of  her  neighbors. 
Poor  Hadji  was  dumfounded,  and,  accom 
panied  by  his  better  half,  left  the  prison,  where 
he  had  expected  to  stay  at  least  a  year  or  two, 
saying:  "Truly  thou  art  a  wonderful  woman, 
Mashallah." 


HOW  THE   JUNKMAN   TRAVELLED  TO 
FIND   TREASURE   IN  HIS   OWN   YARD 

|N  one  of  the  towers  overlooking 
the  Sea  of  Marmora  and  skirting 
the  ancient  city  of  Stamboul,  there 
lived  an  old  junkman,  who  earned 
a  precarious  livelihood  in  gathering  cinders 
and  useless  pieces  of  iron,  and  selling  them 
to  smiths. 

Often  did  he  moralize  on  the  sad  Kismet 
that  had  reduced  him  to  the  task  of  daily 
laboring  for  his  bread  to  make  a  shoe,  perhaps 
for  an  ass.  Surely  he,  a  true  Mussulman, 
might  at  least  be  permitted  to  ride  the  ass. 
His  eternal  longing  often  found  satisfaction  in 
passing  his  hours  of  sleep  in  dreams  of  wealth 
and  luxury.  But  with  the  dawning  of  the  day 
came  reality  and  increased  longing. 

Often  did  he  call  on  the  spirit  of  sleep  to 
35 


36  How  the  Junkman  travelled 

reverse  matters,  but  in  vain;  with  the  rising 
of  the  sun  began  the  gathering  of  the  cinders 
and  iron. 

One  night  he  dreamt  that  he  begged  this 
nocturnal  visitor  to  change  his  night  to  day, 
and  the  spirit  said  to  him:  "Go  to  Egypt, 
and  it  shall  be  so." 

This  encouraging  phrase  haunted  him  by 
day  and  inspired  him  by  night.  So  perse 
cuted  was  he  with  the  thought  that  when  his 
wife  said  to  him,  from  the  door,  "Have  you 
brought  home  any  bread?"  he  would  reply, 
"No,  I  have  not  gone;  I  will  go  to-morrow;" 
thinking  she  had  asked  him,  "  Have  you  gone 
to  Egypt?" 

At  last,  when  friends  and  neighbors  began 
to  pity  poor  Ahmet,  for  that  was  his  name,  as 
a  man  on  whom  the  hand  of  Allah  was  heavily 
laid,  removing  his  intelligence,  he  one  morn 
ing  left  his  house,  saying:  "I  go!  I  go!  to  the 
land  of  wealth !  "  And  he  left  his  wife  wring 
ing  her  hands  in  despair,  while  the  neighbors 
tried  to  comfort  her.  Poor  Ahmet  went  straight 


To  find  Treasure  in  his  own   Yard      37 

on  board  a  boat  which  he  had  been  told  was 
bound  for  Iskender  (Alexandria),  and  assured 
the  captain  that  he  was  summoned  thither, 
and  that  he  was  bound  to  take  him.  Half 
witted  and  mad  persons  being  more  holy  than 
others,  Ahmet  was  conveyed  to  Iskender. 

Arriving  in  Iskender,  Hadji  Ahmet  roamed 
far  and  wide,  proceeding  as  far  as  Cairo,  in 
search  of  the  luxuries  he  had  enjoyed  at 
Constantinople  when  in  the  land  of  Mor 
pheus,  which  he  had  been  promised  to  enjoy 
in  the  sunshine,  if  he  came  to  Egypt.  Alas! 
for  Hadji  Ahmet;  the  only  bread  he  had  to  eat 
was  that  which  was  given  him  by  sympathiz 
ing  humanity.  Time  sped  on,  sympathy  was 
growing  tired  of  expending  itself  on  Hadji 
Ahmet,  and  his  crusts  of  bread  were  few  and 
far  between. 

Wearied  of  life  and  suffering,  he  decided  to 
ask  Allah  to  let  him  die,  and  wandering  out  to 
the  Pyramids  he  solicited  the  stones  to  have 
pity  and  fall  on  him.  It  happened  that  a 
Turk  heard  this  prayer,  and  said  to  him: 


38  How  the  Junkman  travelled 

"Why  so  miserable,  father?  Has  your  soul 
been  so  strangled  that  you  prefer  its  being 
dashed  out  of  your  body,  to  its  remaining  the 
prescribed  time  in  bondage?" 

"Yes,  my  son,"  said  Hadji  Ahmet.  "Far 
away  in  Stamboul,  with  the  help  of  God,  I 
managed  as  a  junkman  to  feed  my  wife  and 
myself;  but  here  am  I,  in  Egypt,  a  stranger, 
alone  and  starving,  with  possibly  my  wife 
already  dead  of  starvation,  and  all  this  through 
a  dream." 

"Alas!  Alas!  my  father!  that  you  at  your 
age  should  be  tempted  to  wander  so  far  from 
home  and  friends,  because  of  a  dream.  Why, 
were  I  to  obey  my  dreams,  I  would  at  this 
present  moment  be  in  Stamboul,  digging  for  a 
treasure  that  lies  buried  under  a  tree.  I  can 
even  now,  although  I  have  never  been  there, 
describe  where  it  is.  In  my  mind's  eye  I  see 
a  wall,  a  great  wall,  that  must  have  been  built 
many  years  ago,  and  supporting  or  seeming  to 
support  this  wall  are  towers  with  many  corners, 
towers  that  are  round,  towers  that  are  square, 


To  find  Treasure  in  his  own   Yard      39 

and  others  that  have  smaller  towers  within 
them.  In  one  of  these  towers,  a  square  one, 
there  live  an  old  man  and  woman,  and  close 
by  the  tower  is  a  large  tree,  and  every  night 
when  I  dream  of  the  place,  the  old  man  tells 
me  to  dig  and  disclose  the  treasure.  But, 
father,  I  am  not  such  a  fool  as  to  go  to  Stam- 
boul  and  seek  to  verify  this.  It  is  an  oft-re 
peated  dream  and  nothing  more.  See  what 
you  have  been  reduced  to  by  coming  so  far." 

"Yes,"  said  Hadji  Ahmet,  "it  is  a  dream 
and  nothing  more,  but  you  have  interpreted  it. 
Allah  be  praised,  you  have  encouraged  me;  I 
will  return  to  my  home." 

And  Hadji  Ahmet  and  the  young  stranger 
parted,  the  one  grateful  that  it  had  pleased 
Allah  to  give  him  the  power  to  revive  and 
encourage  a  drooping  spirit,  and  the  other 
grateful  to  Allah  that  when  he  had  despaired 
of  life  a  stranger  should  come  and  give  him 
the  interpretation  of  his  dream.  He  certainly 
had  wandered  far  and  long  to  learn  that  the 
treasure  was  in  his  own  garden. 


40  How  the  Junkman  travelled 

Hadji  Ahmet  in  due  course,  much  to  the 
astonishment  of  both  wife  and  neighbors, 
again  appeared  upon  the  scene  not  a  much 
changed  man.  In  fact,  he  was  the  cinder 
and  iron  gatherer  of  old. 

To  all  questions  as  to  where  he  was  and 
what  he  had  been  doing,  he  would  answer: 
"  A  dream  sent  me  away,  and  a  dream  brought 
me  back." 

And  the  neighbors  would  say:  "Truly  he 
must  be  blessed." 

One  night  Hadji  Ahmet  went  to  the  tree, 
provided  with  spade  and  pick,  that  he  had 
secured  from  an  obliging  neighbor.  After 
digging  a  short  time  a  heavy  case  was  brought 
to  view,  in  which  he  found  gold,  silver,  and 
precious  jewels  of  great  value.  Hadji  Ahmet 
replaced  the  case  and  earth  and  returned  to 
bed,  much  lamenting  that  it  had  pleased  God 
to  furnish  women,  more  especially  his  wife, 
with  a  long  tongue,  long  hair,  and  very  short 
wits.  Alas!  he  thought,  if  I  tell  my  wife,  I 
may  be  hung  as  a  robber,  for  it  is  against  the 


To  find  Treasure  in  his  own   Yard      41 

laws  of  nature  for  a  woman  to  keep  a  secret. 
Yet,  becoming  more  generous  when  thinking 
of  the  years  of  toil  and  hardship  she  had 
shared  with  him,  he  decided  to  try  and  see 
if,  by  chance,  his  wife  was  not  an  exception 
to  other  women.  Who  knows,  she  might 
keep  the  secret.  To  test  her,  at  no  risk  to 
himself  and  the  treasure,  he  conceived  a 
plan. 

Crawling  from  his  bed,  he  sallied  forth  and 
bought,  found,  or  stole  an  egg.  This  egg  on 
the  following  morning  he  showed  to  his  wife, 
and  said  to  her: 

"Alas!  I  fear  I  am  not  as  other  men,  for 
evidently  in  the  night  I  laid  this  egg;  and, 
wife  mine,  if  the  neighbors  hear  of  this,  your 
husband,  the  long-suffering  Hadji  Ahmet,  will 
be  bastinadoed,  bowstrung,  and  burned  to 
death.  Ah,  truly,  my  soul  is  strangled." 

And  without  another  word  Hadji  Ahmet, 
with  a  sack  on  his  shoulder,  went  forth  to 
gather  the  cast-off  shoes  of  horse,  ox,  or  ass, 
wondering  if  his  wife  woufd  prove  an  excep- 


42  How  the  Junkman  travelled 

tion  in  this,  as  she  had  in  many  other  ways, 
to  other  women. 

In  the  evening  he  returned,  heavily  laden 
with  his  finds,  and  as  he  neared  home  he  heard 
rumors,  ominous  rumors,  that  a  certain  Hadji 
Ahmet,  who  had  been  considered  a  holy  man, 
had  done  something  that  was  unknown  in  the 
history  of  man,  even  in  the  history  of  hens  — 
that  he  had  laid  a  dozen  eggs. 

Needless  to  add  that  Hadji  Ahmet  did  not 
tell  his  wife  of  the  treasure,  but  daily  went 
forth  with  his  sack  to  gather  iron  and  cinders, 
and  invariably  found,  when  separating  his 
finds  of  the  day,  in  company  with  his  wife,  at 
first  one,  and  then  more  gold  and  silver  pieces, 
and  now  and  then  a  precious  stone. 


HOW   CHAPKIN    HALID   BECAME 
CHIEF   DETECTIVE 

|N  Balata  there  lived,  some  years  ago, 
two  scapegraces,  called  Chapkin 
Halid  and  Pitch  Osman.  These 
two  young  rascals  lived  by  their 
wits  and  at  the  expense  of  their  neighbors. 
But  they  often  had  to  lament  the  ever-increas 
ing  difficulties  they  encountered  in  procuring 
the  few  piasters  they  needed  daily  for  bread 
and  the  tavern.  They  had  tried  several 
schemes  in  their  own  neighborhood,  with 
exceptionally  poor  results,  and  were  almost 
disheartened  when  Chapkin  Halid  conceived 
an  idea  that  seemed  to  offer  every  chance  of 
success.  He  explained  to  his  chum  Osman 
that  Balata  was  "played  out,"  at  least  for  a 
time,  and  that  they  must  go  elsewhere  to  sat 
isfy  their  needs.  Halid' s  plan  was  to  go  to 
43 


44  How  Chapkin  Halid 

Stamboul,  and  feign  death  in  the  principal 
street,  while  Osman  was  to  collect  the  funeral 
expenses  of  his  friend  Halid. 

Arriving  in  Stamboul,  Halid  stretched  him 
self  on  his  back  on  the  pavement  and  covered 
his  face  with  an  old  sack,  while  Osman  sat 
himself  down  beside  the  supposed  corpse,  and 
every  now  and  then  bewailed  the  hard  fate  of 
the  stranger  who  had  met  with  death  on  the 
first  day  of  his  arrival.  The  corpse  prompted 
Osman  whenever  the  coast  was  clear,  and  the 
touching  tale  told  by  Osman  soon  brought 
contributions  for  the  burial  of  the  stranger. 
Osman  had  collected  about  thirty  piasters,  and 
Halid  was  seriously  thinking  of  a  resurrection, 
but  was  prevented  by  the  passing  of  the  Grand 
Vizier,  who,  upon  inquiring  why  the  man  lay 
on  the  ground  in  that  fashion,  was  told  that  he 
was  a  stranger  who  had  died  in  the  street. 
The  Grand  Vizier  thereupon  gave  instructions 
to  an  Imam,  who  happened  to  be  at  hand,  to 
bury  the  stranger  and  come  for  the  money 
to  the  Sublime  Porte. 


Became   Chief  Detective  45 

Halid  was  reverently  carried  off  to  the 
Mosque,  and  Osman  thought  that  it  was  time 
to  leave  the  corpse  to  take  care  of  itself.  The 
Imam  laid  Halid  on  the  marble  floor  and  pre 
pared  to  wash  him  prior  to  interment.  He 
had  taken  off  his  turban  and  long  cloak  and 
got  ready  the  water,  when  he  remembered  that 
he  had  no  soap,  and  immediately  went  out  to 
purchase  some.  No  sooner  had  the  Imam  dis 
appeared  than  Halid  jumped  up,  and,  donning 
the  Imam's  turban  and  long  cloak,  repaired  to 
the  Sublime  Porte.  Here  he  asked  admittance 
to  the  Grand  Vizier,  but  this  request  was  not 
granted  until  he  told  the  nature  of  his  busi 
ness.  Halid  said  he  was  the  Imam  who,  in 
compliance  with  the  verbal  instructions  re 
ceived  from  his  Highness,  had  buried  a 
stranger  and  that  he  had  come  for  payment. 
The  Grand  Vizier  sent  five  gold  pieces  (twenty 
piasters  each)  to  the  supposed  Imam,  and 
Halid  made  off  as  fast  as  possible. 

No  sooner  had  Halid  departed  than  the 
cloakless  Imam  arrived  in  breathless  haste, 


46  How   Chapkin  Halid 

and  explained  that  he  was  the  Imam  who  had 
received  instructions  from  the  Grand  Vizier  to 
bury  a  stranger,  but  that  the  supposed  corpse 
had  disappeared,  and  so  had  his  cloak  and 
turban.  Witnesses  proved  this  man  to  be  the 
bona-fide  Imam  of  the  quarter,  and  the  Grand 
Vizier  gave  orders  to  his  Chief  Detective  to 
capture,  within  three  days,  on  pain  of  death, 
and  bring  to  the  Sublime  Porte,  this  fearless 
evil-doer. 

The  Chief  Detective  was  soon  on  the  track 
of  Halid;  but  the  latter  was  on  the  keen  look 
out.  With  the  aid  of  the  money  he  had 
received  from  the  Grand  Vizier  to  defray 
his  burial  expenses  he  successfully  evaded  the 
clutches  of  the  Chief  Detective,  who  was 
greatly  put  about  at  being  thus  frustrated. 
On  the  second  day  he  again  got  scent  of 
Halid  and  determined  to  follow  him  till  an 
opportunity  offered  for  his  capture.  Halid 
knew  that  he  was  followed  and  divined  the 
intentions  of  his  pursuer.  As  he  was  passing 
a  pharmacy  he  noticed  there  several  young 


Became  Chief  Detective  47 

men,  so  he  entered  and  explained  in  Jewish- 
Spanish  (one  of  his  accomplishments)  to  the 
Jew  druggist,  as  he  handed  him  one  of  the  gold 
pieces  he  had  received  from  the  Grand  Vizier, 
that  his  uncle,  who  would  come  in  presently, 
was  not  right  in  his  mind;  but  that  if  the  drug 
gist  could  manage  to  douche  his  head  and  back 
with  cold  water,  he  would  be  all  right  for  a 
week  or  two.  No  sooner  did  the  Chief  Detec 
tive  enter  the  shop  than,  at  a  word  from  the 
apothecary,  the  young  men  seized  him  and,  by 
means  of  a  large  squirt,  they  did  their  utmost 
to  effectively  give  him  the  salutary  and  cool 
ing  douche.  The  more  the  detective  protested, 
the  more  the  apothecary  consolingly  explained 
that  the  operation  would  soon  be  over  and 
that  he  would  feel  much  better,  and  told  of 
the  numerous  similar  cases  he  had  cured  in  a 
like  manner.  The  detective  saw  that  it  was 
useless  to  struggle,  so  he  abandoned  himself 
to  the  treatment;  and  in  the  meantime  Halid 
made  off.  The  Chief  Detective  was  so  dis 
heartened  that  he  went  to  the  Grand  Vizier 


48  How  Chapkin  Halid 

and  asked  him  to  behead  him,  as  death  was 
preferable  to  the  annoyance  he  had  received 
and  might  still  receive  at  the  hands  of  Chap- 
kin  Halid.  The  Grand  Vizier  was  both  furi 
ous  and  amused,  so  he  spared  the  Chief  De 
tective  and  gave  orders  that  guards  be  placed 
at  the  twenty-four  gates  of  the  city,  and  that 
Halid  be  seized  at  the  first  opportunity. 
A  reward  was  further  promised  to  the  per 
son  who  would  bring  him  to  the  Sublime 
Porte. 

Halid  was  finally  caught  one  night  as  he  was 
going  out  of  the  Top-Kapou  (Cannon  Gate), 
and  the  guards,  rejoicing  in  their  capture, 
after  considerable  consultation  decided  to 
bind  Halid  to  a  large  tree  close  to  the  Guard 
house,  and  thus  both  avoid  the  loss  of  sleep 
and  the  anxiety  incident  to  watching  over  so 
desperate  a  character.  This  was  done,  and 
Halid  now  thought  that  his  case  was  hopeless. 
Towards  dawn,  Halid  perceived  a  man  with  a 
lantern  walking  toward  the  Armenian  Church, 
and  rightly  concluded  that  it  was  the  beadle 


Became  Chief  Detective  49 

going  to  make  ready  for  the  early  morning 
service.  So  he  called  out  in  a  loud  voice: 

"Beadle!  Brother!  Beadle!  Brother!  come 
here  quickly." 

Now  it  happened  that  the  beadle  was  a 
poor  hunchback,  and  no  sooner  did  Halid 
perceive  this  than  he  said: 

"  Quick !  Quick !  Beadle,  look  at  my  back 
and  see  if  it  has  gone!" 

"See  if  what  has  gone?"  asked  the  beadle, 
carefully  looking  behind  the  tree. 

"Why,  my  hump,  of  course,"  answered 
Halid. 

The  beadle  made  a  close  inspection  and 
declared  that  he  could  see  no  hump. 

"A  thousand  thanks!"  fervently  exclaimed 
Halid,  "then  please  undo  the  rope." 

The  beadle  set  about  to  liberate  Halid,  and 
at  the  same  time  earnestly  begged  to  be  told 
how  he  had  got  rid  of  the  hump,  so  that  he 
also  might  free  himself  of  his  deformity. 
Halid  agreed  to  tell  him  the  cure,  provided 
the  beadle  had  not  yet  broken  fast,  and  also 


50  How   Chapkin  Halid 

that  he  was  prepared  to  pay  a  certain  small 
sum  of  money  for  the  secret.  The  beadle 
satisfied  Halid  on  both  of  these  points,  and 
the  latter  immediately  set  about  binding  the 
hunchback  to  the  tree,  and  further  told  him, 
on  pain  of  breaking  the  spell,  to  repeat  sixty- 
one  times  the  words:  'Esserti!  Pesserti!  Ser- 
sepeti ! '  if  he  did  this,  the  hump  would  of 
a  certainty  disappear.  Halid  left  the  poor 
beadle  religiously  and  earnestly  repeating  the 
words. 

The  guards  were  furious  when  they  found, 
bound  to  the  tree,  a  madman,  as  they  thought, 
repeating  incoherent  words,  instead  of  Halid. 
They  began  to  unbind  the  captive,  but  the 
only  answer  they  could  get  to  their  host  of 
questions  was  'Esserti,  Pesserti,  Sersepeti.' 
As  the  knots  were  loosened,  the  louder  did  the 
beadle  in  despair  call  out  the  charmed  words 
in  the  hopes  of  arresting  them.  No  sooner 
was  the  beadle  freed  than  he  asked  God  to 
bring  down  calamity  on  the  destroyers  of  the 
charm  that  was  to  remove  his  hunch.  On 


Became  Chief  Detective  5 1 

hearing  the  beadle's  tale,  the  guards  under 
stood  how  their  prisoner  had  secured  his 
liberty,  and  sent  word  to  the  Chief  Detective. 
This  gentleman  told  the  Grand  Vizier  of  the 
unheard-of  cunning  of  the  escaped  prisoner. 
The  Grand  Vizier  was  amused  and  also  very 
anxious  to  see  this  Chapkin  Halid,  so  he  sent 
criers  all  over  the  city,  giving  full  pardon  to 
Halid  on  condition  that  he  would  come  to  the 
Sublime  Porte  and  confess  in  person  to  the 
Grand  Vizier.  Halid  obeyed  the  summons, 
and  came  to  kiss  the  hem  of  the  Grand 
Vizier's  garment,  who  was  so  favorably  im 
pressed  by  him  that  he  then  and  there  ap 
pointed  him  to  be  his  Chief  Detective. 


HOW  COBBLER   AHMET  BECAME  THE 
CHIEF  ASTROLOGER 

^VERY  day  cobbler  Ahmet,  year  in 
and  year  out,  measured  the 
breadth  of  his  tiny  cabin  with  his 
arms  as  he  stitched  old  shoes. 
To  do  this  was  his  Kismet,  his  decreed  fate, 
and  he  was  content  —  and  why  not?  his  busi 
ness  brought  him  quite  sufficient  to  provide 
the  necessaries  of  life  for  both  himself  and 
his  wife.  And  had  it  not  been  for  a  coin 
cidence  that  occurred,  in  all  probability  he 
would  have  mended  old  boots  and  shoes  to 
the  end  of  his  days. 

One  day  cobbler  Ahmet's  wife  went  to  the 
Hamam  (bath),  and  while  there  she  was  much 
annoyed  at  being  obliged  to  give  up  her  com 
partment,  owing  to  the  arrival  of  the  Harem 
and  retinue  of  the  Chief  Astrologer  to  the 
52 


How  Ahmet  became  Chief  Astrologer    53 

Sultan.  Much  hurt,  she  returned  home  and 
vented  her  pique  upon  her  innocent  husband. 

"Why  are  you  not  the  Chief  Astrologer  to 
the  Sultan?"  she  said.  "I  will  never  call  or 
think  of  you  as  my  husband  until  you  have 
been  appointed  Chief  Astrologer  to  his 
Majesty." 

Ahmet  thought  that  this  was  another  phase 
in  the  eccentricity  of  woman  which  in  all  prob 
ability  would  disappear  before  morning,  so  he 
took  small  notice  of  what  his  wife  said.  But 
Ahmet  was  wrong.  His  wife  persisted  so  much 
in  his  giving  up  his  present  means  of  earning 
a  livelihood  and  becoming  an  astrologer,  that 
finally,  for  the  sake  of  peace,  he  complied 
with  her  desire.  He  sold  his  tools  and  col 
lection  of  sundry  old  boots  and  shoes,  and, 
with  the  proceeds  purchased  an  inkwell  and 
reeds.  But  this,  alas !  did  not  constitute  him 
an  astrologer,  and  he  explained  to  his  wife 
that  this  mad  idea  of  hers  would  bring  him 
to  an  unhappy  end.  She,  however,  could  not 
be  moved,  and  insisted  on  his  going  to  the 


54  How   Cobbler  Ahmet 

highway,  there  to  wisely  practise  the  art,  and 
thus  ultimately  become  the  Chief  Astrologer. 

In  obedience  to  his  wife's  instructions, 
Ahmet  sat  down  on  the  highroad,  and  his 
oppressed  spirit  sought  comfort  in  looking  at 
the  heavens  and  sighing  deeply.  While  in 
this  condition  a  Hanoum  in  great  excitement 
came  and  asked  him  if  he  communicated 
with  the  stars.  Poor  Ahmet  sighed,  saying 
that  he  was  compelled  to  converse  with 
them. 

"Then  please  tell  me  where  my  diamond 
ring  is,  and  I  will  both  bless  and  handsomely 
reward  you." 

The  Hanoum,  with  this,  immediately 
squatted  on  the  ground,  and  began  to  tell 
Ahmet  that  she  had  gone  to  the  bath  that 
morning  and  that  she  was  positive  that  she 
then  had  the  ring,  but  every  corner  of  the 
Hamam  had  been  searched,  and  the  ring  was 
not  to  be  found. 

"  Oh !  astrologer,  for  the  love  of  Allah,  exert 
your  eye  to  see  the  unseen." 


Became  the  Chief  Astrologer  55 

"Hanoum  Effendi,"  replied  Ahmet,  the  in 
stant  her  excited  flow  of  language  had  ceased, 
"I  perceive  a  rent,"  referring  to  a  tear  he 
had  noticed  in  her  shalvars  or  baggy  trousers. 
Up  jumped  the  Hanoum,  exclaiming: 

"A  thousand  holy  thanks!  You  are  right! 
Now  I  remember !  I  put  the  ring  in  a  crev 
ice  of  the  cold  water  fountain."  And  in  her 
gratitude  she  handed  Ahmet  several  gold 
pieces. 

In  the  evening  he  returned  to  his  home, 
and  giving  the  gold  to  his  wife,  said:  "Take 
this  money,  wife;  may  it  satisfy  you,  and  in 
return  all  I  ask  is  that  you  allow  me  to  go 
back  to  the  trade  of  my  father,  and  not  expose 
me  to  the  danger  and  suffering  of  trudging 
the  road  shoeless." 

But  her  purpose  was  unmoved.  Until  he 
became  the  Chief  Astrologer  she  would 
neither  call  him  nor  think  of  him  as  her 
husband. 

In  the  meantime,  owing  to  the  discovery 
of  the  ring,  the  fame  of  Ahmet  the  cobbler 


56  How  Cobbler  Ahmet 

spread  far  and  wide.  The  tongue  of  the 
Hanoum  never  ceased  to  sound  his  praise. 

It  happened  that  the  wife  of  a  certain 
Pasha  had  appropriated  a  valuable  diamond 
necklace,  and  as  a  last  resource,  the  Pasha 
determined,  seeing  that  all  the  astrologers, 
Hodjas,  and  diviners  had  failed  to  discover 
the  article,  to  consult  Ahmet  the  cobbler, 
whose  praises  were  in  every  mouth. 

The  Pasha  went  to  Ahmet,  and,  in  fear  and 
trembling,  the  wife  who  had  appropriated  the 
necklace  sent  her  confidential  slave  to  over 
hear  what  the  astrologer  would  say.  The 
Pasha  told  Ahmet  all  he  knew  about  the  neck 
lace,  but  this  gave  no  clue,  and  in  despair  he 
asked  how  many  diamonds  the  necklace  con 
tained.  On  being  told  that  there  were  twenty- 
four,  Ahmet,  to  put  off  the  evil  hour,  said  it 
would  take  an  hour  to  discover  each  diamond, 
consequently  would  the  Pasha  come  on  the 
morrow  at  the  same  hour  when,  Inshallah,  he 
would  perhaps  be  able  to  give  him  some  news. 

The  Pasha  departed,  and  no  sooner  was  he 


Became  the  Chief  Astrologer  57 

out  of  earshot,  than  the  troubled  Ahmet  ex 
claimed  in  a  loud  voice: 

"  Oh  woman !  Oh  woman !  what  evil  influence 
impelled  you  to  go  the  wrong  path,  and  drag 
others  with  you !  When  the  twenty-four  hours 
are  up,  you  will  perhaps  repent!  Alas!  Too 
late.  Your  husband  gone  from  you  forever! 
Without  a  hope  even  of  being  united  in 
paradise." 

Ahmet  was  referring  to  himself  and  his 
wife,  for  he  fully  expected  to  be  cast  into 
prison  on  the  following  day  as  an  impostor. 
But  the  slave  who  had  been  listening  gave  an 
other  interpretation  to  his  words,  and  hurrying 
off,  told  her  mistress  that  the  astrologer  knew 
all  about  the  theft.  The  good  man  had  even 
bewailed  the  separation  that  would  inevitably 
take  place.  The  Pasha's  wife  was  distracted, 
and  hurried  off  to  plead  her  cause  in  person 
with  the  astrologer.  On  approaching  Ahmet, 
the  first  words  she  said,  in  her  excitement, 
were: 

"Oh  learned   Hodja,  you  are   a  great  and 


58  How   Cobbler  Ahmet 

good  man.  Have  compassion  on  my  weak 
ness  and  do  not  expose  me  to  the  wrath  of 
my  husband !  I  will  do  such  penance  as  you 
may  order,  and  bless  you  five  times  daily  as 
long  as  I  live." 

"How  can  I  save  you?"  innocently  asked 
Ahmet.  "What  is  decreed  is  decreed!" 

And  then,  though  silent,  looked  volumes, 
for  he  instinctively  knew  that  words  unuttered 
were  arrows  still  in  the  quiver. 

"If  you  won't  pity  me,"  continued  the  Ha- 
noum,  in  despair,  "I  will  go  and  confess 
to  my  Pasha,  and  perhaps  he  will  forgive 
me." 

To  this  appeal  Ahmet  said  he  must  ask  the 
stars  for  their  views  on  the  subject.  The 
Hanoum  inquired  if  the  answer  would  come 
before  the  twenty-four  hours  were  up.  Ah 
met's  reply  to  this  was  a  long  and  concen 
trated  gaze  at  the  heavens. 

"Oh  Hodja  Effendi,  I  must  go  now,  or  the 
Pasha  will  miss  me.  Shall  I  give  you  the 
necklace  to  restore  to  the  Pasha  without  ex- 


Became  the  Chief  Astrologer  59 

planation,  when  he  comes  to-morrow  for  the 
answer?  " 

Ahmet  now  realized  what  all  the  trouble 
was  about,  and  in  consideration  of  a  fee,  he 
promised  not  to  reveal  her  theft  on  the  con 
dition  that  she  would  at  once  return  home  and 
place  the  necklace  between  the  mattresses  of 
her  Pasha's  bed.  This  the  grateful  woman 
agreed  to  do,  and  departed  invoking  blessings 
on  Ahmet,  who  in  return  promised  to  exercise 
his  influence  in  her  behalf  for  astral  inter 
vention. 

When  the  Pasha  came  to  the  astrologer  at 
the  appointed  time,  he  explained  to  him,  that 
if  he  wanted  both  the  necklace  and  the  thief 
or  thieves,  it  would  take  a  long  time,  as  it  was 
impossible  to  hurry  the  stars;  but  if  he  would 
be  content  with  the  necklace  alone,  the 
horoscope  indicated  that  the  stars  would 
oblige  him  at  once.  The  Pasha  said  that  he 
would  be  quite  satisfied  if  he  could  get  his 
diamonds  again,  and  Ahmet  at  once  told  him 
where  to  find  them.  The  Pasha  returned  to 


60  How  Cobbler  Ahmet 

his  home  not  a  little  sceptical,  and  immedi 
ately  searched  for  the  necklace  where  Ahmet 
had  told  him  it  was  to  be  found.  His  joy 
and  astonishment  on  discovering  the  long-lost 
article  knew  no  bounds,  and  the  fame  of 
Ahmet  the  cobbler  was  the  theme  of  every 
tongue. 

Having  received  handsome  payment  from 
both  the  Pasha  and  the  Hanoum,  Ahmet  ear 
nestly  begged  of  his  wife  to  desist  and  not 
bring  down  sorrow  and  calamity  upon  his 
head.  But  his  pleadings  were  in  vain.  Satan 
had  closed  his  wife's  ear  to  reason  with  envy. 
Resigned  to  his  fate,  all  he  could  do  was  to 
consult  the  stars,  and  after  mature  thought 
give  their  communication,  or  assert  that  the 
stars  had,  for  some  reason  best  known  to  the 
applicant,  refused  to  commune  on  the  subject. 

It  happened  that  forty  cases  of  gold  were 
stolen  from  the  Imperial  Treasury,  and  every 
astrologer  having  failed  to  get  even  a  clue  as 
to  where  the  money  was  or  how  it  had  disap 
peared,  Ahmet  was  approached.  Poor  man, 


Became  the  Chief  Astrologer  61 

his  case  now  looked  hopeless!  Even  the 
Chief  Astrologer  was  in  disgrace.  What 
might  be  his  punishment  he  did  not  know  — 
most  probably  death.  Ahmet  had  no  idea  of 
the  numerical  importance  of  forty;  but  con 
cluding  that  it  must  be  large  he  asked  for  a 
delay  of  forty  days  to  discover  the  forty  cases 
of  gold.  Ahmet  gathered  up  the  implements 
of  his  occult  art,  and  before  returning  to  his 
home,  went  to  a  shop  and  asked  for  forty 
beans  —  neither  one  more  nor  one  less. 
When  he  got  home  and  laid  them  down 
before  him  he  appreciated  the  number  of 
cases  of  gold  that  had  been  stolen,  and 
also  the  number  of  days  he  had  to  live. 
He  knew  it  would  be  useless  to  explain  to 
his  wife  the  seriousness  of  the  case,  so  that 
evening  he  took  from  his  pocket  the  forty 
beans  and  mournfully  said: 

"Forty  cases  of  gold, — forty  thieves, — 
forty  days;  and  here  is  one  of  them,"  handing 
a  bean  to  his  wife.  "The  rest  remain  in  their 
place  until  the  time  comes  to  give  them  up." 


62  How   Cobbler  Ahmet 

While  Ahmet  was  saying  this  to  his  wife 
one  of  the  thieves  was  listening  at  the  win 
dow.  The  thief  was  sure  he  had  been  discov 
ered  when  he  heard  Ahmet  say,  "  And  here  is 
one  of  them,"  and  hurried  off  to  tell  his 
companions. 

The  thieves  were  greatly  distressed,  but  de 
cided  to  wait  till  the  next  evening  and  see  what 
would  happen  then,  and  another  of  the  num 
ber  was  sent  to  listen  and  see  if  the  report 
would  be  verified.  The  listener  had  not  long 
been  stationed  at  his  post  when  he  heard 
Ahmet  say  to  his  wife :  "  And  here  is  another 
of  them,"  meaning  another  of  the  forty  days 
of  his  life.  But  the  thief  understood  the 
words  otherwise,  and  hurried  off  to  tell  his 
chief  that  the  astrologer  knew  all  about  it  and 
knew  that  he  had  been  there.  The  thieves 
consequently  decided  to  send  a  delegation  to 
Ahmet,  confessing  their  guilt  and  offering  to 
return  the  forty  cases  of  gold  intact.  Ahmet 
received  them,  and  on  hearing  their  confes 
sion,  accompanied  with  their  condition  to 


Became  the  Chief  Astrologer  63 

return  the  gold,  boldly  told  them  that  he  did 
not  require  their  aid ;  that  it  was  in  his 
power  to  take  possession  of  the  forty  cases  of 
gold  whenever  he  wished,  but  that  he  had  no 
special  desire  to  see  them  all  executed,  and  he 
would  plead  their  cause  if  they  would  go  and 
put  the  gold  in  a  place  he  indicated.  This 
was  agreed  to,  and  Ahmet  continued  to  give 
his  wife  a  bean  daily  —  but  now  with  another 
purpose;  he  no  longer  feared  the  loss  of  his 
head,  but  discounted  by  degrees  the  great 
reward  he  hoped  to  receive.  At  last  the  final 
bean  was  given  to  his  wife,  and  Ahmet  was 
summoned  to  the  Palace.  He  went,  and  ex 
plained  to  his  Majesty  that  the  stars  refused 
both  to  reveal  the  thieves  and  the  gold,  but 
whichever  of  the  two  his  Majesty  wished 
would  be  immediately  granted.  The  Treasury 
being  low,  it  was  decided  that,  provided  the 
cases  were  returned  with  the  gold  intact,  his 
Majesty  would  be  satisfied.  Ahmet  conducted 
them  to  the  place  where  the  gold  was  buried, 
and  amidst  great  rejoicing  it  was  taken  back 


64  The  Cobbler  Astrologer 

to  the  Palace.  The  Sultan  was  so  pleased 
with  Ahmet,  that  he  appointed  him  to  the 
office  of  Chief  Astrologer,  and  his  wife  at 
tained  her  desire. 

The  Sultan  was  one  day  walking  in  his  Pal 
ace  grounds  accompanied  by  his  Chief  Astrol 
oger;  wishing  to  test  his  powers  he  caught  a 
grasshopper,  and  holding  his  closed  hand  out 
to  the  astrologer  asked  him  what  it  contained. 
Ahmet,  in  a  pained  and  reproachful  tone, 
answered  the  Sultan  by  a  much-quoted 
proverb:  "Alas!  Your  Majesty!  the  grass 
hopper  never  knows  where  its  third  leap  will 
land  it,"  figuratively  alluding  to  himself 
and  the  dangerous  hazard  of  guessing  what 
was  in  the  clenched  hand  of  his  Majesty. 
The  Sultan  was  so  struck  by  the  reply  that 
Ahmet  was  never  again  troubled  to  demon 
strate  his  powers. 


THE  WISE   SON   OF  ALI   PASHA 

SERVANT  of  his  Majesty  Sultan 
Ahmet,  who  had  been  employed 
for  twenty-five  years  in  the  Palace, 
begged  leave  of  the  Sultan  to  allow 
him  to  retire  to  his  native  home,  and  at  the 
same  time  solicited  a  pension  to  enable  him 
to  live.  The  Sultan  asked  him  if  he  had  not 
saved  any  money.  The  man  replied  that  owing 
to  his  having  to  support  a  large  family,  he  had 
been  unable  to  do  so.  The  Sultan  was  very 
angry  that  any  of  his  servants,  especially  in  the 
immediate  employ  of  his  household,  should, 
after  so  many  years'  service,  say  that  he  was 
penniless.  Disbelieving  the  statement,  and  in 
order  to  make  an  example,  the  Sultan  gave 
orders  that  Hassan  should  quit  the  Palace  in 
the  identical  state  he  had  entered  it  twenty- 
F  65 


66  The   Wise  Son  of  AH  Pasha 

five  years  before.  Hassan  was  accordingly 
disrobed  of  all  his  splendor,  and  his  various 
effects,  the  accumulation  of  a  quarter  of  a 
century,  were  confiscated,  and  distributed 
amongst  the  legion  of  Palace  servants.  Poor 
Hassan,  without  a  piaster  in  his  pocket,  and 
dressed  in  the  rude  costume  of  his  native  pro 
vince,  began  his  weary  journey  homeward  on 
foot. 

In  time  he  reached  the  suburbs  of  a  town  in 
Asia  Minor,  and  seeing  some  boys  playing,  he 
approached  them,  sat  on  the  ground,  and 
watched  their  pastime.  The  boys  were  playing 
at  state  affairs  :  one  was  a  Sultan,  another  his 
Vizier,  who  had  his  cabinet  of  Ministers,  while 
close  by  were  a  number  of  boys  bound  hand 
and  foot,  representing  political  and  other  pris 
oners,  awaiting  judgment  for  their  imaginary 
misdeeds.  The  Sultan,  who  was  sitting  with 
worthy  dignity  on  a  throne  made  of  branches 
and  stones,  decorated  with  many-colored  cen 
trepieces,  beckoned  to  Hassan  to  draw  near, 
and  asked  him  where  he  had  come  from.  Has- 


The   Wise  Son  of  All  Pasha  67 

san  replied  that  he  had  come  from  Stamboul, 
from  the  Palace  of  the  Sultan. 

"That's  a  lie,"  said  the  mock  Sultan,  "no 
one  ever  came  from  Stamboul  dressed  in  that 
fashion,  much  less  from  the  Palace;  you  are 
from  the  far  interior,  and  if  you  do  not  con 
fess  that  what  I  say  is  true,  you  will  be  tried 
by  my  Ministers,  and  punished  accordingly." 

Hassan,  partly  to  participate  in  their  boyish 
amusement,  and  partly  to  unburden  his  aching 
heart,  related  his  sad  fate  to  his  youthful  audi 
ence.  When  he  had  finished,  the  boy  Sultan, 
AH  by  name,  asked  him  if  he  had  received  his 
twenty-five  years.  Hassan,  not  fully  grasping 
what  the  boy  said,  replied: 

"Nothing!     Nothing!" 

"That  is  unjust,"  continued  Ali,  "and  you 
shall  go  back  to  the  Sultan  and  ask  that  your 
twenty-five  years  be  returned  to  you  so  that  you 
may  plough  and  till  your  ground,  and  thus 
make  provision  for  the  period  of  want,  old 
age." 

Hassan  was  struck  by  the  sound  advice  the 


68  The   Wise  Son  of  AH  Pasha 

boy  had  given  him,  thanked  him  and  said  he 
would  follow  it  to  the  letter.  The  boys  then 
in  thoughtless  mirth  separated,  to  return  to 
their  homes,  never  dreaming  that  the  seeds  of 
destiny  of  one  of  their  number  had  been 
sown  in  play.  Hassan,  retracing  his  steps,  re 
appeared  in  time  at  the  gates  of  the  Palace 
and  begged  admittance,  stating  that  he  had 
forgotten  to  communicate  something  of  im 
portance  to  his  Majesty.  His  request  being 
granted,  he  humbly  solicited,  that,  inasmuch 
as  his  Majesty  had  been  dissatisfied  with  his 
long  service,  the  twenty-five  years  he  had 
devoted  to  him  should  be  returned,  so  that 
he  might  labor  and  put  by  something  to  pro 
vide  for  the  inevitable  day  when  he  could  no 
longer  work.  The  Sultan  answered: 

"That  is  well  said  and  just.  As  it  is  not 
in  my  power  to  give  you  the  twenty-five 
years,  the  best  equivalent  I  can  grant  you  is 
the  means  of  sustenance  for  a  period  of  that 
duration  should  you  live  so  long.  But  tell  me, 
who  advised  you  to  make  this  request?" 


The   Wise  Son  of  All  Pasha  69 

Hassan  then  related  his  adventure  with  the 
boys  while  on  his  journey  home,  and  his 
Majesty  was  so  pleased  with  the  judgment  and 
advice  of  the  lad  that  he  sent  for  him  and  had 
him  educated.  The  boy  studied  medicine, 
and  distinguishing  himself  in  the  profession 
ultimately  rose  to  be  Hekim  Ali  Pasha. 

He  had  one  son  who  was  known  as  Doctor 
Ali  Pasha's  son.  He  studied  calligraphy,  and 
became  so  proficient  in  this  art,  now  almost 
lost,  that  his  imitations  of  the  Imperial  Trade's 
(decrees)  were  perfect  fac-similes  of  the  origi 
nals.  One  day  he  took  it  into  his  head  to 
write  an  Trade*  appointing  himself  Grand 
Vizier,  in  place  of  the  reigning  one,  a  protege 
of  the  Imperial  Palace,  which  Trade"  he  took 
to  the  Sublime  Porte  and  there  and  then  in 
stalled  himself.  By  chance  the  Sultan  hap 
pened  to  drive  through  Stamboul  that  day,  in 
disguise,  and  noticing  considerable  excite 
ment  and  cries  of  "  Padishahim  chok  yasha  " 
(long  live  my  Sultan)  amongst  the  people, 
made  inquiries  as  to  the  cause  of  this  unusual 


70  The   Wise  Son  of  AH  Pasha 

occurrence.  His  Majesty's  informers  brought 
him  the  word  that  the  people  rejoiced  in  the 
fall  of  the  old  Grand  Vizier,  and  the  appoint 
ment  of  the  new  one,  Doctor  AH  Pasha's  son. 
The  Sultan  returned  to  the  Palace  and  imme 
diately  sent  one  of  his  eunuchs  to  the  Sublime 
Porte  to  see  the  Grand  Vizier  and  find  out 
the  meaning  of  these  strange  proceedings. 

The  eunuch  was  announced,  and  the  Grand 
Vizier  ordered  him  to  be  brought  into  his 
presence.  Directly  he  appeared  in  the  door 
way,  he  was  greeted  with  :  "  What  do  you  want, 
you  black  dog?  " 

Then  turning  to  the  numerous  attendants 
about,  he  said :  "  Take  this  nigger  to  the  slave 
market,  and  see  what  price  he  will  bring." 

The  eunuch  was  taken  to  the  slave  market, 
and  the  highest  price  bid  for  him  was  fifty 
piasters.  On  hearing  this,  the  Grand  Vizier 
turned  to  the  eunuch  and  said:  "Go  and  tell 
your  master  what  you  are  worth,  and  tell  him 
that  I  think  it  too  much  by  far." 

The  eunuch  was  glad  to  get  off,  and  com- 


The   Wise  Son  of  All  Pasha  7 1 

municated  to  his  Majesty  the  story  of  his  strange 
treatment.  The  Sultan  then  ordered  his  Chief 
Eunuch,  a  not  unimportant  personage  in  the 
Ottoman  Empire,  to  call  on  the  Grand  Vizier 
for  an  explanation.  At  the  Sublime  Porte, 
however,  no  respect  was  paid  to  this  high  dig 
nitary.  Aii  Pasha  received  him  in  precisely 
the  same  manner  as  he  had  received  his  sub 
ordinate.  The  chief  was  taken  to  the  slave 
market,  and  the  highest  sum  bid  for  him  was 
five  hundred  piasters.  The  self-appointed 
Grand  Vizier  ordered  him  to  go  and  tell  his 
master  the  amount  some  foolish  people  were 
willing  to  pay  for  him. 

When  the  Sultan  heard  of  these  strange  pro 
ceedings  he  sent  an  autograph  letter  to  Ali 
Pasha,  commanding  him  to  come  to  the  Palace. 
The  Grand  Vizier  immediately  set  out  for  the 
Palace  and  was  received  in  audience,  when  he 
explained  to  his  Majesty  that  the  affairs  of 
State  could  not  be  managed  by  men  not  worth 
more  than  from  fifty  to  five  hundred  piasters, 
and  that  if  radical  changes  were  not  made, 


72  The   Wise  Son  of  AH  Pasha 

certain  ruin  would  be  the  outcome.  The  Sul 
tan  appreciated  this  earnest  communication, 
and  ratified  the  appointment,  as  Grand  Vizier, 
of  Ali  Pasha,  the  son  of  the  boy  who  had 
played  at  state  affairs  in  a  village  of  Asia 
Minor. 


THE  MERCIFUL   KHAN 

3>HERE  lived  once  near  Ispahan  a 
tailor,  a  hard-working  man,  who 
was  very  poor.  So  poor  was  he 
that  his  workshop  and  house  to 
gether  consisted  of  a  wooden  cottage  of  but 
one  room. 

But  poverty  is  no  protection  against  thieves, 
and  so  it  happened  that  one  night  a  thief 
entered  the  hut  of  the  tailor.  The  tailor  had 
driven  nails  in  various  places  in  the  walls  on 
which  to  hang  the  garments  that  were 
brought  to  him  to  mend.  It  chanced  that  in 
groping  about  for  plunder,  the  thief  struck 
against  one  of  these  nails  and  put  out  his  eye. 
The  next  morning  the  thief  appeared  before 
the  Khan  (Judge)  and  demanded  justice. 
The  Khan  accordingly  sent  for  the  tailor, 
73 


74  The  Merciful  Khan 

stated  the  complaint  of  the  thief,  and  said 
that  in  accordance  with  the  law,  '  an  eye  for 
an  eye,'  it  would  be  necessary  to  put  out  one 
of  the  tailor's  eyes.  As  usual,  however,  the 
tailor  was  allowed  to  plead  in  his  own  defence, 
whereupon  he  thus  addressed  the  court: 

"Oh  great  and  mighty  Khan,  it  is  true  that 
the  law  says  an  eye  for  an  eye,  but  it  does  not 
say  my  eye.  Now  I  am  a  poor  man,  and  a 
tailor.  If  the  Khan  puts  out  one  of  my  eyes, 
I  will  not  be  able  to  carry  on  my  trade,  and 
so  I  shall  starve.  Now  it  happens  that  there 
lives  near  me  a  gunsmith.  He  uses  but  one 
eye  with  which  he  squints  along  the  barrel  of 
his  guns.  Take  his  other  eye,  oh  Khan,  and 
let  the  law  be  satisfied." 

The  Khan  was  favorably  impressed  with  this 
idea,  and  accordingly  sent  for  the  gunsmith. 
He  recited  to  the  gunsmith  the  complaint  of 
the  thief  and  the  statement  of  the  tailor, 
whereupon  the  gunsmith  said: 

"Oh  great  and  mighty  Khan,  this  tailor 
knows  not  whereof  he  talks.  I  need  both 


The  Merciful  Khan  75 

of  my  eyes;  for  while  it  is  true  that  I  squint 
one  eye  along  one  side  of  the  barrel  of  the 
gun,  to  see  if  it  is  straight,  I  must  use  the 
other  eye  for  the  other  side.  If,  therefore, 
you  put  out  one  of  my  eyes  you  will  take 
away  from  me  the  means  of  livelihood.  It 
happens,  however,  that  there  lives  not  far 
from  me  a  flute-player.  Now  I  have  noticed 
that  whenever  he  plays  the  flute  he  closes  both 
of  his  eyes.  Take  out  one  of  his  eyes,  oh 
Khan,  and  let  the  law  be  satisfied." 

Accordingly,  the  Khan  sent  for  the  flute- 
player,  and  after  reciting  to  him  the  complaint 
of  the  thief,  and  the  words  of  the  gunsmith, 
he  ordered  him  to  play  upon  his  flute.  This 
the  flute-player  did,  and  though  he  endeavored 
to  control  himself,  he  did  not  succeed,  but, 
as  the  result  of  long  habit,  closed  both  of  his 
eyes.  When  the  Khan  saw  this,  he  ordered 
that  one  of  the  flute-player's  eyes  be  put  out, 
which  being  done,  the  Khan  spoke  as  follows : 

"Oh  flute-player,  I  saw  that  when  playing 
upon  your  flute  you  closed  both  of  your  eyes. 


76  The  Merciful  Khan 

It  was  thus  clear  to  me  that  neither  was  neces 
sary  for  your  livelihood,  and  I  had  intended 
to  have  them  both  put  out,  but  I  have  decided 
to  put  out  only  one  in  order  that  you  may  tell 
among  men  how  merciful  are  the  Khans." 


KING   KARA-KUSH  OF  BITHYNIA 

KING  of  Bithynia,  named  Kara- 
kush,  who  was  blind  of  an  eye, 
was  considered  in  his  day  a 
reasonable,  just,  and  feeling  man. 
He  administered  justice  upon  the  basis  of 
the  law,  'An  eye  for  an  eye,  a  tooth  for  a 
tooth,'  and  enlarged  or  modified  it  as  cir 
cumstances  demanded. 

It  happened  that  a  weaver  by  accident  put 
out  the  eye  of  a  man.  He  was  brought  before 
the  King  or  Cadi,  for  in  those  days  the  Kings 
acted  as  Cadis,  who  promptly  condemned  him, 
in  accordance  with  the  law,  to  the  loss  of  an 
eye.  The  weaver  pleaded  touchingly,  saying : 
"  Oh  Cadi !  I  have  a  wife  and  a  large  family, 
and  I  support  them  by  throwing  the  shuttle 
from  the  right  to  the  left,  and  again  from  the 
left  to  the  right;  first  using  the  one  eye  and 
77 


78  King  Kara-Kush  of  Bithynia 

then  the  other.  If  you  remove  one  of  my  eyes, 
I  will  not  be  able  to  weave,  and  my  wife  and 
children  will  suffer  the  pangs  of  hunger.  Why 
not,  in  the  place  of  my  eye,  remove  that  of  the 
hunter  who  uses  but  one  eye  in  exercising  his 
profession,  and  to  whom  two  eyes  are  super 
fluous?" 

The  Cadi  was  impressed,  acknowledged  the 
justice  of  the  weaver's  remarks,  and  the  hun 
ter  was  immediately  sent  for.  The  hunter 
being  brought,  the  Cadi  was  greatly  rejoiced  to 
notice  that  the  hunter's  eyes  were  exactly  the 
same  color  as  his  own.  He  asked  the  hunter 
how  he  earned  his  living,  and  receiving  his 
answer  that  he  was  a  hunter,  the  Cadi  asked 
him  how  he  shot.  The  hunter  in  reply 
demonstrated  the  manner  by  putting  up  his 
arms,  his  head  to  a  side,  and  closing  one  eye. 
The  Cadi  said  the  weaver  was  right,  and  im 
mediately  sent  for  the  surgeon  to  have  the  eye 
removed.  Further,  the  Cadi  bethought  him 
that  he  might  profit  by  this  and  have  the  hun 
ter's  eye  placed  in  his  own  socket.  The  sur- 


King  Kara-Kush  of  Bithynia  79 

geon  set  to  work  and  prepared  the  cavity  to 
receive  the  hunter's  eye.  This  done  with  a 
practised  hand,  the  surgeon  removed  the  hun 
ter's  eye  and  was  about  to  place  it  in  the  pre 
pared  socket,  when  it  accidentally  slipped  from 
his  fingers  to  the  ground,  and  was  snatched  up 
by  a  cat.  The  surgeon  was  terrified  and  madly 
ran  after  the  cat;  but  alas!  the  cat  had  eaten 
the  eye.  What  was  he  to  do?  On  the  in 
spiration  of  the  moment  he  snatched  out  the 
eye  of  the  cat,  and  placing  it  in  the  Cadi's 
head,  bound  it  up. 

Some  time  after  the  surgeon  asked  the  Cadi 
how  he  saw. 

"Oh,"  replied  the  Cadi,  "with  my  old  eye 
I  see  as  usual,  but  strange  to  say,  the  new  eye 
you  placed  in  my  head  is  continually  searching 
and  watching  for  rat  holes." 


THE   PRAYER   RUG  AND   THE   DIS 
HONEST  STEWARD 

POOR  Hamal  (porter)  brought  to 
the  Pasha  of  Stamboul  his  savings, 
consisting  of  a  small  canvas  bag 
of  medjidies  (Turkish  silver  dol 
lars),  to  be  kept  for  him,  while  he  was  absent 
on  a  visit  to  his  home.  The  Pasha,  being  a 
kind-hearted  man,  consented,  and  after  sealing 
the  bag,  called  his  steward,  instructing  him  to 
keep  it  till  the  owner  called  for  it.  The 
steward  gave  the  man  a  receipt,  to  the  effect 
that  he  had  received  a  sealed  bag  containing 
money. 

When  the  poor  man  returned,  he  went  to  the 
Pasha  and  received  his  bag  of  money.  On 
reaching  his  room  he  opened  the  bag,  and  to 
his  horror  found  that  it  contained,  instead  of 
the  medjidies  he  had  put  in  it,  copper  piasters, 
80 


The  Prayer  Rug  and  Dishonest  Steward     8 1 

which  are  about  the  same  size  as  medjidies. 
The  poor  Hamal  was  miserable,  his  hard-earned 
savings  gone. 

He  at  last  gathered  courage  to  go  and  put  his 
case  before  the  Pasha.  He  took  the  bag  of 
piasters,  and  with  trembling  voice  and  falter 
ing  heart  he  assured  the  Pasha  that  though  he 
had  received  his  bag  apparently  intact,  on 
opening  it  he  found  that  it  contained  copper 
piasters  and  not  the  medjidies  he  had  put  in 
it.  The  Pasha  took  the  bag,  examined  it 
closely,  and  after  some  time  noticed  a  part 
that  had  apparently  been  darned  by  a  master- 
hand.  The  Pasha  told  the  Hamal  to  go  away 
and  come  back  in  a  week;  in  the  meantime 
he  would  see  what  he  could  do  for  him.  The 
grateful  man  departed,  uttering  prayers  for  the 
life  and  prosperity  of  his  Excellency. 

The  next  morning  after  the  Pasha  had  said 
his  prayers  kneeling  on  a  most  magnificent  and 
expensive  rug,  he  took  a  knife  and  cut  a  long 
rent  in  it.  He  then  left  his  Konak  without 
saying  a  word  to  any  one.  In  the  evening 


82  The  Prayer  Rug 

when  he  returned  he  found  that  the  rent  had 
been  so  well  repaired  that  it  was  with  diffi 
culty  that  he  discovered  where  it  had  been. 
Calling  his  steward,  he  demanded  who  had 
repaired  his  prayer  rug.  The  steward  told  the 
Pasha  that  he  thought  the  rug  had  been  cut 
by  accident  by  some  of  the  servants,  so  he 
had  sent  to  the  Bazaar  for  the  darner,  Mus- 
tapha,  and  had  it  mended,  the  steward,  by 
way  of  apology,  adding  that  it  was  very  well 
done. 

"Send  for  Mustapha  immediately,"  said  the 
Pasha,  "and  when  he  comes  bring  him  to 
my  room." 

When  Mustapha  arrived,  the  Pasha  asked 
him  if  he  had  repaired  the  rug.  Mustapha  at 
once  replied  that  he  had  mended  it  that  very 
morning. 

"It  is  indeed  well  done,"  said  the  Pasha; 
"much  better  than  the  darn  you  made  in  that 
canvas  bag." 

Mustapha  agreed,  saying  that  it  was  very 
difficult  to  mend  the  bag  as  it  was  full  of 


And  the  Dishonest  Steward  83 

copper  piasters.  On  hearing  this,  the  Pasha 
gave  him  a  backsheesh  (present)  and  told  him 
to  retire.  The  Pasha  then  called  his  steward, 
and  not  only  compelled  him  to  pay  the  Hamal 
his  money,  but  discharged  him  from  his  ser 
vice,  in  which  he  had  been  engaged  for  many 
years. 


THE  GOOSE,  THE  EYE,  THE  DAUGH 
TER,  AND  THE  ARM 

TURK  decided  to  have  a  feast,  so 
he  killed  and  stuffed  a  goose 
and  took  it  to  the  baker  to  be 
roasted.  The  Cadi  of  the  village 
happened  to  pass  by  the  oven  as  the  baker 
was  basting  the  goose,  and  was  attracted  by 
the  pleasant  and  appetizing  odor.  Approach 
ing  the  baker,  the  Cadi  said  it  was  a  fine 
goose;  that  the  smell  of  it  made  him  quite 
hungry,  and  suggested  that  he  had  better  send 
it  to  his  house.  The  baker  expostulated,  say 
ing:  "I  cannot;  it  does  not  belong  to  me." 

The  Cadi  assured  him  that  was  no  difficulty. 
"You  tell  Ahmet,  the  owner  of  the  goose,  that 
it  flew  away." 

"Impossible!"  said  the  baker.  "How  can 
a  roasted  goose  fly  away?  Ahmet  will  only 


The  Goose,  Eye,  Daughter,  and  Arm      85 

laugh  at  me,  your  Worship,  and  I  will  be  cast 
into  prison." 

"Am  I  not  a  Judge?"  said  the  Cadi,  "fear 
nothing." 

At  this  the  baker  consented  to  send  the  goose 
to  the  Cadi's  house.  When  Ahmet  came  for 
his  goose  the  baker  said:  "Friend,  thy  goose 
has  flown." 

"Flown?"  said  Ahmet,  "what  lies!  Am 
I  thy  grandfather's  grandchild  that  thou 
shouldst  laugh  in  my  beard?" 

Seizing  one  of  the  baker's  large  shovels,  he 
lifted  it  to  strike  him,  but,  as  fate  would  have 
it,  the  handle  put  out  the  eye  of  the  baker's 
boy,  and  Ahmet,  frightened  at  what  he  had 
done,  ran  off,  closely  followed  by  the  baker 
and  his  boy,  the  latter  crying:  "My  eye!" 

In  his  hurry  Ahmet  knocked  over  a  child, 
killing  it,  and  the  father  of  the  child  joined 
in  the  chase,  calling  out:  "My  daughter!" 

Ahmet,  well-nigh  distracted,  rushed  into  a 
mosque  and  up  a  minaret.  To  escape  his 
pursuers  he  leaped  from  the  parapet,  and  fell 


86      The  Goose,  Eye,  Daughter,  and  Arm 

upon  a  vender  who  was  passing  by,  breaking 
his  arm.  The  vender  also  began  pursuing 
him,  calling  out:  "My  arm!" 

Ahmet  was  finally  caught  and  brought  before 
the  Cadi,  who  no  doubt  was  feeling  contented 
with  the  world,  having  just  enjoyed  the  deli 
cious  goose. 

The  Cadi  heard  each  of  the  cases  brought 
against  Ahmet,  who  in  turn  told  his  case 
truthfully  as  it  had  happened. 

"A  complicated  matter,"  said  the  Cadi. 
"All  these  misfortunes  come  from  the  flight 
of  the  goose,  and  I  must  refer  to  the  book  of 
the  law  to  give  just  judgment." 

Taking  down  a  ponderous  manuscript  vol 
ume,  the  Cadi  turned  to  Ahmet  and  asked  him 
what  number  egg  the  goose  had  been  hatched 
from.  Ahmet  said  he  did  not  know. 

"Then,"  replied  the  Cadi,  "the  book  writes 
that  such  a  phenomenon  was  possible.  If 
this  goose  was  hatched  from  the  seventh  egg, 
and  the  hatcher  also  from  the  seventh  egg, 
the  book  writes  that  it  is  possible  for  a 


The  Goose,  Eye,  Daughter,  and  Arm      87 

roasted  goose,  under  those  conditions,  to  fly 
away." 

"With  reference  to  your  eye,"  continued 
the  Cadi,  addressing  the  baker's  lad,  "the 
book  provides  punishment  for  the  removal  of 
two  eyes,  but  not  of  one,  so  if  you  will  consent 
to  your  other  eye  being  taken  out,  I  will  con 
demn  Ahrnet  to  have  both  of  his  removed." 

The  baker's  lad,  not  appreciating  the  force 
of  this  argument,  withdrew  his  claim. 

Then  turning  to  the  father  of  the  dead 
child,  the  Cadi  explained  that  the  only  pro 
vision  for  a  case  like  this  in  the  book  of  the 
law,  was  that  he  take  Ahmet's  child  in  its 
place,  or  if  Ahmet  had  not  a  child,  to  wait  till 
he  got  one.  The  bereaved  parent  not  taking 
any  interest  in  Ahmet's  present  or  prospective 
children,  also  withdrew  his  case. 

These  cases  settled,  there  remained  but  the 
vender's,  who  was  wroth  at  having  his  arm 
broken.  The  Cadi  expatiated  on  the  justice 
of  the  law  and  its  far-seeing  provisions,  that 
the  vender  at  least  could  claim  ample  com- 


88      The  Goose,  Eyey  Daughter,  and  Arm 

pensation  for  having  his  arm  broken.  The 
book  of  the  law  provided  that  he  should  go  to 
the  very  same  minaret,  and  that  Ahmet  must 
station  himself  at  the  very  same  place  where 
he  had  stood  when  his  arm  was  broken;  and 
that  he  might  jump  down  and  break  Ahmet's 
arm. 

"But  be  it  understood,"  concluded  the 
Cadi,  "if  you  break  his  leg  instead  of  his 
arm,  Ahmet  will  have  the  right  to  delegate 
some  one  to  jump  down  on  you  to  break  your 
leg." 

The  vender  not  seeing  the  force  of  the 
Cadi's  proposal,  also  withdrew  his  claim. 

Thus  ended  the  cases  of  the  goose,  the  eye, 
the  daughter,  and  the  arm. 


THE   FORTY  WISE   MEN 

a  day  amongst  the  many  days, 
when  the  Turk  was  more  earnest 
than  now,  before  the  Europeans 
came  and  gave  new  ideas  to  our 
children,  there  lived  and  labored  for  the  wel 
fare  of  our  people  an  organized  body  of  men. 
At  whose  suggestion  this  society  was  formed  I 
know  not.  All  that  we  know  of  them  to-day, 
through  our  fathers,  is  that  their  forefathers 
chose  from  among  them  the  most  wise,  sin 
cere,  and  experienced  forty  brethren.  These 
forty  were  named  the  Forty  Wise  Men.  When 
one  of  the  forty  was  called  away  from  his 
labors  here,  perhaps  to  continue  them  in 
higher  spheres,  or  to  receive  his  reward,  who 
knows?  the  remaining  thirty-nine  consulted 
and  chose  from  the  community  him  whom 
89 


90  The  Forty  Wise  Men 

they  thought  capable,  and  worthy  of  guiding 
and  of  being  guided,  to  add  to  their  number. 
They  lived  and  held  their  meetings  in  a 
mosque  of  which  little  remains  now,  the 
destructive  hand  of  time  having  left  it  but  a 
battered  dome,  with  cheerless  walls  and  great 
square  holes,  where  once  were  iron  bars  and 
stained  glass.  It  has  gone  —  so  have  the  wise 
men.  But  its  foundations  are  solid,  and  they 
may  in  time  come  to  support  an  edifice  dedi 
cated  to  noble  work,  and,  Inshallah,  the  seed 
of  the  Forty  Wise  Men  will  also  bear  fruit  in 
the  days  that  are  not  yet. 

You  will  say,  what  good  did  this  body  of 
men  do?  These  men  who  always  numbered 
forty  were,  as  I  have  told  you,  originally 
chosen  by  the  people,  and  when  one  of  the 
forty  departed  from  his  labors  here,  the  re 
maining  thirty-nine  consulted  together  and 
from  the  most  worthy  of  the  community  they 
chose  another  member. 

What  was  the  good  of  this  body  of  men? 
Great,  great,  my  friends.  Not  only  did  they 


The  Forty  Wise  Men  91 

administer  justice  to  the  oppressed,  and  give 
to  the  needy  substantial  aid;  but  their  very 
existence  had  the  most  beneficial  effect  on 
the  community.  Why?  you  ask.  Because 
each  vied  with  the  other  to  be  worthy  of 
being  nominated  for  the  vacancy  when  it  oc 
curred.  No  station  in  life  was  too  low  to  be 
admitted,  no  station  was  too  high  for  one  of 
the  faithful  to  become  one  of  the  'Forty.' 
Here  all  were  equal.  As  Allah  himself  doth 
consider  mankind  by  deeds,  so  also  mankind 
was  considered  by  the  Forty  Wise  Men,  who 
presided  over  the  welfare  and  smoothed  the 
destiny  of  the  children  of  Allah.  With  their 
years,  their  wisdom  grew,  and  they  were 
blessed  by  Allah. 

In  the  town  of  Scutari,  over  the  way,  there 
lived  and  labored  a  Dervish.  His  counsel 
to  the  rash  was  ever  ready,  his  sole  object, 
apparently,  in  life  was  to  become  one  of  the 
Forty  Wise  Men,  who  presided  over  the  people 
and  protected  them  from  all  ills. 


92  The  Forty  Wise  Men 

The  years  went  on,  and  still  without  a  re 
ward  he  patiently  labored,  no  doubt  con 
tenting  himself  with  the  idea  that  the  day 
would  come  when  the  merit  of  his  actions 
would  be  recognized  by  Allah.  That  was  a 
mistake,  my  friends;  true  faith  expecteth 
nothing.  However,  the  day  did  come,  and 
the  Dervish's  great  desire  had  every  appear 
ance  of  being  realized.  One  of  the  Forty  Wise 
Men  having  accomplished  his  mission  on  earth, 
departed  this  life.  The  remaining  thirty-nine, 
who  still  had  duties  to  fulfil,  consulted  as 
to  whom  they  should  call  to  aid  them  in 
their  work.  A  eulogy  was  pronounced  in 
favor  of  the  Dervish.  They  not  unjustly  con 
sidered  how  he  had  labored  among  the  poor 
in  Scutari;  ever  ready  to  help  the  needy,  ever 
ready  to  counsel  the  rash,  ever  ready  to  comfort 
and  encourage  the  despairing.  It  was  decided 
that  he  should  be  nominated.  A  deputation 
consisting  of  three,  two  to  listen,  one  to  speak, 
was  named,  and  with  the  blessing  of  their 
brethren,  for  success,  they  entered  a  caique 


The  Forty  Wise  Men  93 

and  were  rowed  to  Scutari.  Arriving  at  the 
Dervish's  gate,  the  spokesman  thus  addressed 
the  would-be  member  of  the  Forty  Wise  Men : 

"  Brother  in  the  flesh,  thy  actions  have  been 
noted,  and  we  come  to  put  a  proposition  to 
thee,  which,  after  consideration,  thou  wilt 
either  accept  or  reject  as  thou  thinkest  best 
for  all  interested  therein.  We  would  ask 
thee  to  become  one  of  us.  We  are  sent 
hither  by,  and  are  the  representatives  of, 
the  sages  who  preside  over  the  people. 
Brother,  we  number  in  all  one  hundred  and 
thirty-eight  in  spirit;  —  ninety-nine,  having 
accomplished  their  task  in  the  flesh,  have  de 
parted;  thirty-nine,  still  in  the  flesh,  endeavor 
their  duty  to  fulfil.  And  it  is  the  desire  of 
the  one  hundred  and  thirty-eight  souls  to  add 
to  us  thyself,  in  order  to  complete  our  num 
ber  of  laborers  in  the  flesh.  Brother,  thy 
duties,  which  will  be  everlasting,  thou  wilt 
learn  when  with  us.  Do  thou  consider,  and 
we  will  return  at  the  setting  of  the  sun  of 
the  third  day,  to  receive  thy  answer." 


94  The  Forty  Wise  Men 

And  they  turned  to  depart.  But  the  Der 
vish  stopped  them,  saying:  "Brothers,  I  have 
no  need  to  consider  the  subject  for  three  days, 
seeing  that  my  inmost  desire  for  thirty  years, 
and  my  sole  object  in  life  has  been  to  become 
worthy  of  being  one  of  you.  In  spirit  I  have 
long  been  your  brother,  in  the  flesh  it  is  easy 
to  comply,  seeing  that  it  has  been  the  spirit's 
desire." 

Then  answered  the  spokesman:  "Brother, 
thou  hast  spoken  well.  Allah,  thou  art  with  us 
in  our  choice;  we  praise  Thee.  Brother,  one 
word !  Our  ways  are  different  to  all  men's  ways; 
thou  hast  but  to  have  faith,  and  all  is  well." 

"Brethren,  faith!  I  have  had  faith;  my 
faith  is  now  even  strengthened.  I  do  your 
bidding." 

"  Brother,  first  of  all  thy  worldly  goods  must 
be  disposed  of  and  rendered  into  gold.  Every 
earthly  possession  thou  hast  must  be  repre 
sented  by  a  piece  of  gold.  Therefore  see  to 
that;  we  have  other  duties  to  fulfil,  but  will 
return  ere  the  sun  sets  in  the  west." 


The  Forty  Wise  Men  95 

The  Dervish  set  about  selling  all  his  goods; 
and  when  the  coloring  of  the  sky  in  the  west 
harbingered  the  closing  of  the  day,  he  had  dis 
posed  of  everything  and  stood  waiting  with 
naught  but  a  sack  of  gold. 

The  three  wise  men  returned,  and,  on  seeing 
the  Dervish,  said:  "Brother,  thou  hast  done 
well;  we  will  hence." 

A  caique  was  in  waiting,  and  the  four  en 
tered.  Silently  the  caique  glided  over  the 
smooth  surface  of  the  Bosphorus;  and  silently 
the  occupants  sat.  When  beyond  Maidens' 
Tower,  the  spokesman,  turning  to  the  Der 
vish,  said:  "Brother,  with  thy  inmost  blessing 
give  me  that  sack,  representing  everything 
thou  dost  possess  in  this  world."  • 

The  Dervish  handed  the  sack  as  he  was 
bidden,  and  the  wise  man  solemnly  rose,  and 
holding  it  on  high,  said:  "With  the  blessing 
of  our  brother  Mustapha,"  and  dropped  it 
where  the  current  is  strongest.  Then,  sitting 
down,  resumed  his  silence.  The  deed  was 
done,  and  nothing  outward  told  the  story;  the 


96  The  Forty  Wise  Men 

Caiquedji  dipped  his  oars,  and  the  waves 
rippled  as  soft  as  before.  Nothing  but  the 
distant,  soothing  cry  of  the  Muezzin,  calling 
the  faithful  to  prayer,  now  waxing,  now 
waning,  now  completely  dying  away  as  they 
moved  around  the  minarets,  broke  the  stillness. 
Ere  long  the  boat  was  brought  to  the 
shore,  the  four  men  wended  their  way  up  the 
steep  hill,  and  the  horizon,  wrapped  in  the 
mantle  of  night,  hid  them  from  the  boatman's 
sight.  A  few  minutes'  walk  brought  them  to 
the  mosque  of  the  Forty  Wise  Men ;  the 
spokesman  turned  to  the  Dervish,  and  said: 
"Brother,  faithfully  follow,"  and  then  passed 
through  the  doorway.  They  entered  a  large, 
vaulted  chamber,  the  ceiling  of  which  was 
artistically  inlaid  with  mosa'iques,  and  the 
floor  covered  with  tiles  of  the  ceramic  art  of 
bygone  ages.  From  the  centre  hung  a  large 
chandelier  holding  a  number  of  little  oil  cups, 
each  shedding  its  tiny  light,  as  if  to  show 
that  union  was  strength.  Round  this  chande 
lier  were  seven  brass  filagreed,  hemispherical- 


The  Forty  Wise  Men  97 

shaped  lanterns,  holding  several  oil  burners. 
These  many  tiny  burners  gave  a  soothing, 
contented,  though  undefined  light,  which, 
together  with  the  silence,  added  to  the  im- 
pressiveness  of  the  place.  Round  this  hall 
were  forty  boxes  of  the  same  shape  and 
size. 

Our  friend  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  hall 
and  under  the  influence  of  the  scene,  he  was 
afraid  to  breathe;  he  did  not  know  whether  to 
be  happy  or  sad,  for  having  come  so  far. 

As  he  stood  thus  thinking,  dreaming,  one 
of  the  curtains  was  raised,  and  there  came 
forth  a  very  old  man,  his  venerable  white 
beard  all  but  touching  his  girdle. 

Solemnly  and  slowly  he  walked  over  to  the 
opposite  side,  and  following  in  his  train 
came  thirty-eight  more,  the  last  apparently 
being  the  youngest. 

Chill  after  chill  went  coursing  down  the 
spinal  cord  of  the  astonished  would-be  brother, 
whilst  these  men  moved  about  in  the  unbroken 
silence,  as  if  talking  to  invisible  beings;  now 


98  The  Forty  Wise  Men 

embracing,  now  clasping  hands,  now  bidding 
farewell. 

The  Dervish  closed  his  eyes,  opened  them, 
Were  these  things  so  ?  Yes,  it  was  no  dream, 
no  hallucination.  Yet  why  heard  he  no  sound? 

Each  of  the  brethren  now  took  his  place 
beside  a  box,  but  there  was  one  vacancy;  no 
one  stood  at  the  side  of  the  box  to  the  left 
of  the  youngest  brother.  Making  a  profound 
salaam,  which  all  answered,  the  old  man  si 
lently  turned,  raised  the  curtain,  and  passed 
into  the  darkness,  each  in  his  order  following. 
As  one  in  a  trance,  the  Dervish  watched  one 
after  another  disappear.  The  last  now  raised 
the  curtain,  but  before  vanishing,  turned  (it 
was  the  spokesman),  and  whispered :  "  Brother, 
faith,  follow !  "  and  stepped  into  the  darkness. 

These  words  acted  upon  the  Dervish  like  a 
spell;  he  followed. 

Up,  up,  the  winding  stairway  of  a  minaret 
they  go.  At  last  they  arrive,  and  to  the 
horror  of  the  Dervish,  what  does  he  see? 
One,  two,  three,  disappear  over  the  parapet, 


The  Forty  Wise  Men  99 

and  his  friend  the  spokesman,  with :  "  Brother, 
faith,  follow ! "  also  vanished  into  the  inky 
darkness. 

Again  at  the  eleventh  hour  did  the  cheering 
words  of  the  brother  spokesman  act  upon  the 
Dervish  like  magic,  he  raised  his  foot  to  the 
parapet,  and,  in  faltering  decision,  jumped 
up  two  or  three  times.  But  man's  guardian 
does  not  lead  him  over  the  rugged  paths  of 
life;  he  gives  the  impulse  and  you  must  go. 
So  it  was  with  the  Dervish.  He  jumped  once, 
twice,  thrice,  but  each  time  fell  backward 
instead  of  forward.  My  friends,  he  hesitated 
again;  at  the  eleventh  hour  he  was  encouraged, 
but  undecided  —  he  was  not  equal  to  the  test. 
So,  with  a  great  weight  on  his  heart,  he  de 
scended  the  winding  stairs  of  the  minaret. 
He  had  reached  his  zenith  only  in  desire,  and 
was  now  on  his  decline. 

Lamenting,  like  a  weak  mortal  that  he  was, 
for  not  having  followed,  he  again  entered  the 
hall  he  had  just  left,  with  the  intention,  no 
doubt,  of  departing. 


ioo  The  Forty  Wise  Men 

But  the  charm  of  the  place  was  on  him 
again,  and  as  he  stood  the  curtain  moved,  and 
the  old  man  advanced;  and  as  before,  the 
silence  was  unbroken.  Again  did  each  take 
his  place  beside  a  box,  again  did  the  old  man 
salaam,  with  the  simultaneous  response  of  the 
others.  Again  did  they  gesture  as  if  talking 
to  invisible  beings  of  some  calamity  which  had 
befallen  them  which  they  all  regretted. 

The  old  man  went  and  opened  the  box  that 
stood  alone.  From  this  he  took,  what?  the 
identical  bag  of  gold  that  had  been  dropped 
into  the  Bosphorus  some  hours  ago.  The 
spokesman  came  forward  and  took  it  from 
the  hand  of  the  old  man.  The  Dervish  now 
no  longer  believed  that  he  was  he  himself,  and 
that  these  things  were  taking  place.  He  under 
stood  not,  he  knew  not. 

Coming  forward,  the  spokesman  thus  ad 
dressed  the  spell-bound  Dervish,  his  voice 
giving  a  strange  echo,  as  if  his  words  were 
emphasized  by  a  hundred  invisible  mouths: 

"  Friend  and  brother  in  the  flesh,  but  weak 


The  Forty  Wise  Men  101 

of  the  spirit,  thou  hast  proved  thyself  un 
worthy  to  impart  tfyat  which  thou  hast, not 
thyself,  —  Faith !  Thine  actions  hitherto,  of 
seeming  conviction,  -have  ^rSQt,  beea.'-for  the 
eye  of  the  Almighty,  the  All-seeing,  the  All- 
powerful  alone,  but  for  the  approbation  of 
mankind.  To  get  this  approbation  thou  hast 
soared  out  of  thine  element;  the  atmosphere 
is  too  rarified,  thou  canst  not  live,  thou  must 
return ! 

"  Get  thee  back  into  the  world,  back  to  thy 
brothers;  thou  canst  not  be  one  of  us.  One 
hundred  and  thirty-nine  in  the  spirit  have 
regretfully  judged  thee  as  lacking  in  faith, 
and  not  having  a  sheltered  apartment  within 
thyself,  thou  canst  not  shelter  others.  No 
man  can  bequeath  that  which  he  hath  not. 
Go  thy  way,  and  in  secret  build  thee  a  wall, 
brick  by  brick,  action  by  action;  let  none 
see  thy  place  but  the  eye  that  seeth  all, 
lest  a  side,  when  all  but  completed,  fall,  and 
thou  art  again  exposed  to  the  four  winds. 
Take  thy  money,  thine  all,  and  when  hesita- 


102  The  Forty  Wise  Men 

tion  interrupts,  offer  a  prayer  in  thy  heart,  and 
then .  faithfully  follow J     Farewell !  " 

And -the  Dervish  was  led  out  into  the  street, 
a  Jpr,,e.  ana. solitary  man;  he.  had  his  all  in  his 
hand  —  a  bag  of  gold. 


Library. 

; 

HOW  THE   PRIEST   KNEW   THAT   IT 
WOULD   SNOW 

TURK  travelling  in  Asia  Minor 
came  to  a  Christian  village.  He 
journeyed  on  horseback,  was  ac 
companied  by  a  black  slave,  and 
seeming  a  man  of  consequence,  the  priest  of 
the  village  offered  him  hospitality  for  the 
night.  The  first  thing  to  be  done  was  to  con 
duct  the  traveller  to  the  stable,  that  he  might  see 
his  horse  attended  to  and  comfortably  stalled 
for  the  night.  In  the  stable  was  a  magnificent 
Arab  horse,  belonging  to  the  priest,  and  the 
Turk  gazed  upon  it  with  covetous  eyes,  but 
nevertheless,  in  order  that  no  ill  should  befall 
the  beautiful  creature  and  to  counteract  the 
influence  of  the  evil  eye  with  certainty,  he 
spat  at  the  animal.  After  they  had  dined,  the 
priest  took  his  guest  for  a  walk  in  the  garden, 
103 


104  How  the  Priest  knew 

and  in  the  course  of  a  very  pleasant  conversa 
tion  he  informed  the  Turk  that  on  the  morrow 
there  would  be  snow  on  the  ground. 

"  Never !     Impossible !  "  said  the  Turk. 

"Well,  to-morrow  you  will  see  that  I  am 
right,"  said  the  priest. 

"I  am  willing  to  stake  my  horse  against 
yours,  that  you  are  wrong,"  answered  the  Turk, 
who  was  delighted  at  this  opportunity  which 
gave  him  a  chance  of  securing  the  horse,  with 
out  committing  the  breach  in  Oriental  eti 
quette  of  asking  his  host  if  he  would  sell  it. 
After  some  persuasion  the  priest  accepted  his 
wager,  and  they  separated  for  the  night. 

Later  on  that  night,  the  Turk  said  to  his 
slave :  "  Go,  Sali,  go  and  see  what  the  weather 
says,  for  truly  my  life  is  in  want  of  our  good 
host's  horse." 

Sali  went  out  to  make  an  observation,  and 
on  returning  said  to  his  master:  "Master,  the 
heavens  are  like  unto  your  face,  —  without  a 
frown  and  many  kindly  sparkling  eyes,  and  the 
earth  is  like  unto  that  of  your  black  slave." 


That  it  would  Snow  105 

"  'Tis  well,  Sali,  'tis  well.  What  a  beauti 
ful  animal  that  is ! " 

Later  on,  before  retiring  to  rest,  he  sent  his 
slave  on  another  inspection,  and  was  gratified 
to  receive  the  same  answer.  Early  in  the 
morning  he  awoke,  and  calling  his  slave,  who 
had  slept  at  his  door,  he  sent  him  forth  again 
to  see  if  any  change  had  taken  place. 

"Oh  master!"  reported  Sali,  in  trembling 
tones,  "Nature  has  reversed  herself,  for  the 
heavens  are  now  like  the  scowling  face  of  your 
slave,  and  the  earth  is  like  yours,  white,  en 
tirely  white." 

"Chok  shai!  wonderful  thing.  Then  I 
have  lost  not  only  that  beautiful  animal  but 
my  own  horse  as  well.  Oh  pity !  Oh 
pity!" 

He  gave  up  his  horse,  but  before  parting  he 
begged  the  priest  to  tell  him  how  he  knew  it 
would  snow. 

"  My  pig  told  me  as  we  were  walking  in  the 
garden  yesterday.  I  saw  it  put  its  nose  in  the 
heap  of  manure  you  see  in  that  corner,  and  I 


io6  How  the  Priest  knew 

knew  that  to  be  a  sure  sign  that  it  would  snow 
on  the  morrow,"  replied  the  priest. 

Deeply  mystified,  the  Turk  and  his  slave 
proceeded  on  foot.  Reaching  a  Turkish  vil 
lage  before  nightfall,  he  sought  and  obtained 
shelter  for  the  night  from  the  Imam,  the 
Mohammedan  priest  of  the  village.  While 
partaking  of  the  evening  meal  he  asked  the 
Imam  when  the  feast  of  the  Bairam  would  be. 

"  Truly,  I  do  not  know !  When  the  cannons 
fire,  I  will  know  it  is  Bairam,"  said  his  host. 

"What!  "  said  the  traveller,  becoming  angry, 
"you  an  Imam,  —  a  learned  Hodja, — and 
don't  know  when  it  will  be  Bairam,  and  the 
pig  of  the  Greek  priest  knew  when  it  would 
snow?  Shame!  Shame!" 

And  becoming  much  angered,  he  declined 
the  hospitality  of  the  Imam  and  went  else 
where. 


WHO  WAS  THE  THIRTEENTH  SON 

N  the  town  of  Adrianople  there 
lived  an  Armenian  Patriarch, 
Munadi  Hagop  by  name,  re 
spected  and  loved  alike  by  Mus 
sulman  and  Christian.  He  was  a  man  of 
wide  reading  and  profound  judgment.  The 
Ottoman  Governor  of  the  same  place,  Usref 
Pasha,  happened  also  to  be  a  man  of  consid 
erable  acquirements  and  education.  The 
Armenian  and  the  Turk  associated  much 
together.  In  fact,  they  were  always  either 
walking  out  together  or  visiting,  one  at  the 
residence  of  the  other.  This  went  on  for 
some  time,  and  the  twelve  wise  men  who 
were  judges  in  the  city  thought  that  their 
Governor  was  doing  wrong  in  associating  so 
much  with  a  dog  of  a  Christian;  so  they  re 
solved  to  call  him  to  account. 
107 


io8          Who  was  the  Thirteenth  Son 

This  resolution  taken,  the  entire  twelve 
proceeded  to  the  house  of  the  Governor  and 
told  him  that  he  was  setting  a  bad  example 
to  his  subjects.  They  feared,  too,  that  the 
salvation  of  his  own  soul  and  of  his  posterity 
was  in  danger,  should  this  Armenian  in  any 
way  influence  his  mind. 

"My  friends,"  answered  the  Governor,  "this 
man  is  very  learned,  and  the  only  reason  why 
we  so  often  come  together  is  because  a  great 
sympathy  exists  between  us,  and  much  mutual 
pleasure  is  derived  from  this  friendship.  I 
ask  his  advice,  and  he  gives  me  a  clear  expla 
nation.  He  is  my  friend,  and  I  would  gladly 
see  him  your  friend." 

"Oh,"  said  the  spokesman  of  the  judges, 
"  it  is  his  wise  answers  that  act  as  magic  upon 
you?  We  will  give  him  a  question  to  answer, 
and  if  he  solves  this  to  our  satisfaction,  he 
will  then  in  reality  be  a  great  man." 

"I  am  sure  you  will  not  be  disappointed!" 
said  the  Pasha.  "He  has  never  failed  me, 
and  I  have  sometimes  put  questions  to  him 


Who  was  the  Thirteenth  Son  109 

which  appeared  unanswerable.  He  will  surely 
call  to-morrow.  Shall  I  send  him  to  you  or 
bring  him  myself?" 

"We  wish  to  see  him  alone,"  said  the 
judges. 

"I  shall  not  fail  to  send  him  to  you  to 
morrow,  after  which  I  am  sure  you  will  often 
seek  his  company." 

On  the  following  day  the  Pasha  told  the 
Patriarch  how  matters  stood,  and  begged  him 
to  call  on  the  gentlemen  who  took  so  lively 
an  interest  in  their  friendly  association. 

The  Patriarch,  never  dreaming  of  what 
would  happen,  called  on  the  twelve  wise  men 
and  introduced  himself.  They  were  holding 
the  Divan,  and  the  entrance  of  the  Patriarch 
gave  considerable  pleasure  to  them.  On  the 
table  lay  a  turban  and  a  drawn  sword. 

The  customary  salutations  having  been  duly 
exchanged,  the  Patriarch  seated  himself,  and 
at  once  told  them  that  his  friend  the  Gov 
ernor  had  asked  him  to  call,  and  he  took 
much  pleasure  in  making  their  acquaintance, 


no  Who  was  the  Thirteenth  Son 

adding  that  he  would  be  happy  to  do  any 
thing  in  his  power  that  they  might  wish. 

The  spokesman  of  the  Divan  rose  and  said : 
"Effendi,  our  friend  the  Governor  has  told  us 
of  your  great  learning,  and  we  have  decided  to 
put  a  question  to  you.  The  reason  of  our 
taking  this  liberty  is  because  the  Governor 
told  us  that  he  had  never  put  a  question  to 
you  which  had  remained  unanswered." 

And  as  he  spoke  he  moved  toward  the  table. 

"Effendi,  our  question  will  consist  of  only 
a  few  words."  And  laying  his  right  hand  on 
the  turban  and  his  left  hand  on  the  sword,  he 
said:  "Is  this  the  right,  or  is  this  the  right?" 

The  Patriarch  paused  aghast  at  the  terrible 
feature  of  the  interrogation.  He  saw  destruc 
tion  staring  him  in  the  face.  Nevertheless 
he  said  to  them  with  great  composure :  "  Gen 
tlemen,  you  have  put  an  exceedingly  difficult 
question  to  me,  the  most  difficult  that  could 
be  put  to  man.  However,  it  is  a  question 
put,  and  now,  according  to  your  laws,  cannot 
be  recalled." 


Who  was  the  Thirteenth  Son  in 

"No,"  answered  the  twelve  wise  men,  rub 
bing  their  hands,  "it  cannot  be  recalled." 

"  I  will  but  say  that  it  grieves  me  much  to 
have  to  reply  to  this,"  the  Patriarch  contin 
ued,  "and  I  cannot  do  so  without  continued 
prayers  for  guidance.  Therefore  I  beg  to 
request  a  week's  time  before  giving  my 
answer." 

To  this  no  objection  was  made,  and  the 
Patriarch  prepared  to  go.  Respectfully  bow 
ing  to  all  present,  as  if  nothing  out  of  the 
common  had  happened,  he  slowly  moved 
toward  the  door  apparently  in  deep  thought. 

Just  as  he  reached  the  door  he  turned  back 
and  addressing  the  judges,  said : 

"Gentlemen,  one  of  the  reasons  I  had  great 
pleasure  in  meeting  you  to-day  was  because  I 
wished  to  have  your  advice  on  a  difficult  legal 
problem  which  has  been  presented  to  me  by 
some  members  of  my  community.  Knowing 
your  great  wisdom,  I  thought  you  might  assist 
me,  and  as  you  are  now  sitting  in  lawful 
council  I  shall,  if  agreeable  to  you,  put  the 


ii2  Who  was  the  Thirteenth  Son 

case  before  you  and  be  greatly  pleased  to 
learn  your  opinion. " 

The  judges,  whose  curiosity  was  aroused, 
and  who  were  flattered  that  a  man  of  such 
reputation  for  wisdom  should  submit  a  matter 
to  them  for  their  opinion,  signified  to  him  to 
proceed. 

"Gentlemen  and  wise  men,"  began  the  Pa 
triarch,  "there  was  once  a  father,  and  this 
father  had  thirteen  sons,  who  were  esteemed 
by  all  who  knew  them.  As  time  with  sure 
hand  marked  its  progress  on  the  issue  of  this 
good  man,  and  the  children  grew  into  youth, 
they  one  by  one  went  into  the  world,  spreading 
to  the  four  known  quarters  of  the  globe,  and 
carrying  with  them  the  good  influence  given 
by  their  father.  Through  them  the  name  of 
the  father  spread,  causing  a  great  moral  and 
mental  revolution  throughout  the  world.  The 
father  in  his  native  home,  however,  saw  that 
his  days  were  few,  that  he  had  well-nigh 
turned  the  leaves  of  the  book  of  life,  and 
yearned  to  see  his  sons  once  more.  He  ac- 


Who  was  the  Thirteenth  Son  113 

cordingly  sent  messengers  all  over  the  world, 
saying:  'Come,  my  sons,  and  receive  your 
father's  blessing;  he  is  about  to  depart  this 
life,  come  and  get  each  one  your  portion  of 
the  worldly  possessions  I  have,  together  with 
my  blessing,  and  again  go  forth,  doing  each 
your  duty  to  God  and  man.' 

"One  by  one  the  sons  of  the  aged  father 
came,  and  once  more  were  united  in  ^the 
ancient  home  of  their  childhood,  with  the 
exception  of  one  son.  The  remaining  days 
of  the  old  man  were  spent  with  his  twelve 
sons,  and  the  brothers  found  that  all  of  them 
had  retained  the  teachings  of  infancy,  and 
the  pleasure  was  great.  The  reuniting  of  the 
family,  though  of  comparatively  short  dura 
tion,  was  happier  by  far  than  the  years  of 
childhood  and  youth  which  they  had  spent 
together.  Still  the  thirteenth  son  was  not 
found.  The  messengers  returned  one  after 
the  other,  bearing  no  tidings  of  him.  The 
old  father  saw  that  he  could  wait  no  longer, 
that  he  must  dispose  of  his  worldly  posses- 


ii4  Who  was  the  Thirteenth  Son 

sions,  give  his  blessing  to  his  twelve  sons 
and  rejoin  his  Father.  So  he  called  them 
to  his  side  and  thus  spoke  to  them: 

"'My  sons,  as  you  have  done  may  it  be 
done  unto  you.  You  have  cheered  my  last 
steps  to  the  grave,  and  I  bless  you.' 

"And  the  father's  blessing  was  bestowed  on 
each. 

"'Of  all  I  possess  I  give  to  each  of  you  an 
equal  share  with  my  blessing.  You  are  my 
offspring  and  the  representatives  of  your 
father  on  earth.  It  is  my  will  that  you 
should  continue  as  you  have  begun.  You 
are  my  twelve  sons,  and  I  have  no  other. 
Your  brother  who  was,  is  no  longer.  We 
have  waited  long,  that  he  should  take  his 
portion  and  my  blessing;  but  he  has  tarried 
elsewhere,  and  now  the  hand  of  my  Father  is 
on  me,  and  as  you  have  come  to  me,  so  I 
must  go  to  show  Him  my  work.' 

"So  the  father  ordained  that  the  twelve 
should  be  his  heirs,  and  declared  that  any  one 
coming  after  claiming  to  be  his  son,  was  an 


Who  was  the  Thirteenth  Son  115 

impostor.  He  also  confirmed  in  the  existing 
and  competent  courts  that  these  alone  were 
his  representatives  on  earth.  This  was  duly 
registered  in  conformity  with  the  law,  and 
the  old  father  passed  away  to  rejoin  his  fore 
fathers. 

"  The  twelve  sons  again  went  forth  into  the 
world  and  carried  with  them  the  blessings  and 
teachings  of  their  father,  and  these  teachings 
and  ideas  developed  and  grew,  and  the  mem 
ory  of  their  father  was  cherished  and  blessed. 

"Many  years  after,  a  person  turned  up 
claiming  to  be  the  missing  son,  and  sought 
to  obtain  the  part  due  to  him.  Not  only  did 
he  wish  his  share,  but  he  claimed  the  whole 
worldly  possessions  of  his  father,  that  he  was 
the  son  blessed  by  his  father,  and  exhorted 
all  to  follow  his  teachings.  By  those  who 
knew  the  circumstances,  he  was  not  believed; 
but  many  were  ignorant  of  the  father,  and 
also  ignorant  of  the  registering  in  the  courts 
of  law,  and  were  inclined  to  believe  in  the 
impostor. 


n6  Who  was  the  Thirteenth  Son 

"  Now,  gentlemen,  this  is  the  case  that  has 
troubled  me  much.  As  you  are  sitting  in 
lawful  council,  it  would  give  me  much  pleas 
ure  if  you  could  cast  light  on  the  case.  Your 
statement  will  help  me,  and  I  will  be  ever 
grateful  to  you.  Had  this  son,  the  late  re 
turned  person,  any  right  to  all  the  worldly 
possessions  of  the  father,  or,  in  fact,  even  any 
right  to  an  equal  share?" 

Thus  having  spoken  he  turned  to  the  Hod j as 
with  an  inquiring  look.  They  one  and  all, 
unanimously,  and  in  a  breath  said,  that  all 
the  legal  formalities  having  been  carried  out, 
the  will  of  the  father  was  law,  and  the  law 
he  passed  should  be  respected,  therefore  the 
thirteenth  son  was  an  impostor.  On  return 
ing  he  should  have  gone  to  his  brothers,  and 
no  doubt  he  would  have  been  received  as  a 
brother,  but  he  acted  otherwise.  He  should 
receive  nothing. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  that  you  look  at  it  in 
that  light,  and  I  will  now  say  that  that  has 
always  been  my  opinion,  but  your  statement 


Who  was  the  Thirteenth  Son  117 

now  adds  strength  to  the  conviction,  and  had 
there  been  any  doubt  on  my  part,  your  unani 
mous  declaration  would  have  dispelled  it.  I 
would  further  esteem  it  a  great  kindness  and 
a  favor  if,  as  a  reference  and  as  a  proof  of 
my  authority,  or  rather  as  a  corroboration  of 
many  proofs,  you  would,  as  you  are  sitting  in 
lawful  Divan,  give  your  signatures  to  the  effect 
that  the  decision  of  the  learned  council  was 
unanimous,  and  to  this  said  effect,  that  the 
thirteenth  son  was  an  impostor,  and  had  no 
right  to  any  of  the  possessions  he  claimed." 

Flattered  that  their  opinion  had  such 
weight,  the  judges  also  consented  to  do  this, 
and  the  Patriarch  set  about  drawing  up  the 
case.  This  he  read  to  them,  and  each  put 
his  hand  and  seal  to  the  document. 

The  Patriarch  thanked  them  and  departed. 

A  week  had  passed,  and  the  judges  had  en 
tirely  forgotten  the  case  that  had  been  put  to 
them,  but  they  had  not  forgotten  the  Patri 
arch,  and  eagerly  awaited  his  answer  to  their 
question  which  left  no  alternative,  and  which 


n8  Who  was  the  Thirteenth  Son 

would  cause  his  head  to  be  separated  from  his 
body  by  a  blow  of  the  executioner.  But 
the  Patriarch  did  not  make  his  appearance, 
and  as  the  prescribed  time  had  passed,  the 
judges  went  to  the  Governor  to  see  what  steps 
should  be  taken. 

The  Governor  was  deeply  grieved  when  the 
judges  told  him  of  the  terrible  question  they 
had  put  to  the  Patriarch,  yet  remembering 
leaving  that  morning  the  Patriarch  who  had 
been  with  him,  and  who  seemed  in  no  wise 
anxious,  he  said  that  he  was  convinced  that 
either  a  satisfactory  answer  had  been  given  or 
would  be  forthcoming.  He  questioned  the 
Hod j  as  as  to  what  had  taken  place,  and  they 
answered  that  nothing  had  been  said  beyond 
the  question  that  had  been  put  to  him  and 
his  request  for  a  week's  time  in  which  to 
answer. 

"Did  he  say  nothing  at  all,"  asked  the 
Pasha,  "before  he  left?" 

"Nothing,"  said  the  spokesman  of  the 
judges,  "except  that  he  put  to  us  a  case 


Who  was  the  Thirteenth  Son  119 

which  he  had  been  called  on  to  decide  and 
asked  our  opinion." 

"What  was  this  case?"  asked  the  Pasha. 
And  the  judges  recited  it  to  him,  told  what 
opinion  they  had  given,  and  stated  that  they 
had,  at  the  Patriarch's  request  and  for  his  use, 
placed  their  seal  to  this  opinion. 

"Go  home,  you  heads  of  asses,"  said  the 
Governor,  "and  thank  Allah  that  it  is  to  a 
noble  and  a  great  man  who  would  make  no 
unworthy  use  of  it  that  you  have  delivered  a 
document  testifying  that  Mohammed  is  an 
impostor.  In  future,  venture  not  to  enter  into 
judgment  with  men  whom  it  has  pleased  God 
to  give  more  wit  than  to  yourselves." 


PARADISE   SOLD   BY  THE   YARD 

SHE  chief  Imam  of  the  Vilayet 
of  Broussa  owed  to  a  Jew  money 
lender  the  sum  of  two  hundred 
piasters.  The  Jew  wanted  his 
money  and  would  give  no  rest  to  the  Imam. 
Daily  he  came  to  ask  for  it,  but  without  suc 
cess.  The  Jew  was  becoming  very  anxious 
and  determined  to  make  a  great  effort.  Not 
being  able  to  take  the  Imam  to  court,  he  de 
cided  to  try  and  shame  him  into  paying 
the  sum  due;  and  to  effect  this,  he  came, 
sat  on  his  debtor's  doorstep  and  bewailed  his 
sad  fate  in  having  fallen  into  the  hands  of  a 
tyrant.  The  Imam  saw  that  if  this  continued, 
his  reputation  as  a  man  of  justice  would  be 
considerably  impaired,  so  he  thought  of  a  plan 
by  which  to  pay  off  his  creditor.  Calling  the 
Jew  into  his  house,  he  said: 

120 


Paradise  sold  by  the  Yard  121 

"  Friend,  what  wilt  thou  do  with  the  money 
if  I  pay  thee?" 

"  Get  food,  clothe  my  children,  and  advance 
in  my  business,"  answered  the  Jew. 

"My  friend,"  said  the  Imam,  "thy  pitiful 
position  awakens  my  compassion.  Thou  art 
gathering  wealth  in  this  world  at  the  cost  of 
thy  soul  and  peace  in  the  world  to  come;  and 
I  wish  I  could  help  thee.  I  will  tell  thee  what 
I  will  do  for  thee.  I  would  not  do  the  same 
thing  for  any  other  Jew  in  the  world,  but  thou 
hast  awakened  my  commiseration.  For  the 
debt  I  owe  thee,  I  will  sell  thee  two  hundred 
yards  of  Paradise,  and  being  owner  of  this 
incomparable  possession  in  the  world  to  come, 
thou  canst  fearlessly  go  forth  and  earn  as  much 
as  possible  in  this  world,  having  already  made 
ample  provision  for  the  next." 

What  could  the  Jew  do  but  take  what  the 
Imam  was  willing  to  give  him?  So  he  ac 
cepted  the  deed  for  the  two  hundred  yards  of 
Paradise.  A  happy  thought  now  struck  the 
Jew.  He  set  off  and  found  the  tithe-collector 


122  Paradise  sold  by  the   Yard 

of  the  revenues  of  the  mosque,  and  made 
friends  with  him.  He  then  explained  to  him, 
when  the  intimacy  had  developed,  how  he  was 
the  possessor  of  a  deed  entitling  him  to  two 
hundred  yards  of  Paradise,  and  offered  the 
collector  a  handsome  commission  if  he  would 
help  him  in  disposing  of  it.  When  the  money 
had  been  gathered  for  the  quarter,  the  col 
lector  came  and  discounted  the  Imam's  docu 
ment,  returning  it  to  him  as  two  hundred 
piasters  of  the  tithes  collected,  with  the  state 
ment  that  this  document  had  been  given  to 
him  by  a  peasant,  and  that  bearing  his  holy 
seal,  he  dared  not  refuse  it. 

The  Imam  was  completely  deceived,  and 
thought  that  the  Jew  had  sold  the  deed  at  a 
discount  to  some  of  his  subjects  who  were  in 
arrears,  and  of  course  had  to  receive  it  as 
being  as  good  as  gold.  Nevertheless  the  Jew 
was  not  forgotten,  and  the  Imam  determined 
to  have  him  taken  into  court  and  sentenced  if 
possible.  His  charge  against  the  Jew  was  that 
he,  the  chief  priest  of  the  province,  had  taken 


Paradise  sold  by  the  Yard  123 

pity  on  this  Jew,  thinking  what  a  terrible  thing 
it  was  to  know  no  future,  and  as  the  man 
hitherto  had  an  irreproachable  character,  in 
consideration  of  a  small  debt  he  had  against 
the  church,  which  it  was  desirable  to  balance, 
he  thought  he  would  give  this  Jew  two  hundred 
yards  of  Paradise,  which  he  did. 

"Now,  gentlemen,  this  ungrateful  dog  sold 
this  valuable  document,  and  it  was  brought 
back  to  me  as  payment  of  taxes  in  arrears  due 
to  the  church.  Therefore,  I  say  that  this  Jew 
has  committed  a  great  sin  and  ought  to  be 
punished  accordingly." 

The  Cadis  now  turned  to  hear  the  Jew,  who, 
the  personification  of  meekness,  stood  as  if 
awaiting  his  death  sentence.  With  the  most 
innocent  look  possible,  the  Jew  replied,  when 
the  Cadis  asked  him  what  he  had  to  say  for 
himself : 

"Effendim,  it  is  needless  to  say  how  I  ap 
preciate  the  kindness  of  our  Imam,  but  the 
reason  that  I  disposed  of  that  valuable  docu 
ment  was  this:  When  I  went  to  Paradise  I 


124  Paradise  sold  by  the  Yard 

found  a  seat,  and  measured  out  my  two  hun 
dred  yards,  and  took  possession  of  the  further 
inside  end  of  the  bench.  I  had  not  been 
there  long  when  a  Turk  came  and  sat  beside 
me.  I  showed  him  my  document  and  pro 
tested  against  his  taking  part  of  my  seat;  but, 
gentlemen,  I  assure  you  it  was  altogether  use 
less;  the  Turks  came  and  came,  one  after  the 
other,  till,  to  make  a  long  story  short,  I  fell 
off  at  the  other  end  of  the  seat,  and  here  I 
am.  The  Turks  in  Paradise  will  take  no  heed 
of  your  document,  and  either  will  not  recog 
nize  the  authority  of  the  Imam,  or  will  not  let 
the  Jews  enter  therein. 

"Effendim,  what  could  I  do  but  come 
back  and  sell  the  document  to  men  who  could 
enter  Paradise,  and  this  I  did." 

The  Cadis,  after  consulting,  gave  judgment 
as  follows: 

"  We  note  that  you  could  not  have  done  any 
thing  else  but  sell  the  two  hundred  yards  of 
Paradise,  and  the  fact  that  you  cannot  enter 
there  is  ample  punishment  for  the  wrong 


Paradise  sold  by  the  Yard  125 

committed;  but  there  is  still  a  grievous 
charge  against  you,  which,  if  you  can  clear  to 
our  satisfaction,  you  will  at  once  be  dis 
missed.  How  much  did  the  document  cost 
you  and  what  did  you  sell  it  for?" 

"Effendim,  it  cost  me  two  hundred  pias 
ters,  and  I  sold  it  for  two  hundred  piasters." 

This  statement  having  been  proved  by  pro 
ducing  the  deed  in  question,  and  the  tithe- 
collector  who  had  given  it  to  the  Imam  for 
two  hundred  piasters,  the  Jew  was  acquitted. 


JEW  TURNED   TURK 

^IRKEDJI,  the  landing-place  on  the 
Stamboul  side  of  the  Golden  Horn, 
is  always  a  scene  of  bustle  and 
noise.  The  Caiquedjis,  striving 
for  custom,  cry  at  the  top  of  their  voices: 
"I  am  bound  for  Haskeuy;  I  can  take  another 
man;  my  fare  is  a  piaster!  " 

Others  call  in  lusty  tones,  that  they  are  bound 
for  Karakeuy.  Further  out  in  the  stream  are 
other  caiques,  bound  for  more  distant  places, 
some  with  a  passenger  or  two,  others  without. 
In  one  of  these  sat  a  Jew  patiently  waiting, 
while  the  Caiquedji,  standing  erect,  backed 
in  and  out,  every  now  and  then  calling  at  the 
top  of  his  voice :  '  luskidar, '  meaning  that  he 
was  bound  for  Scutari,  on  the  Asiatic  shore. 
At  last  a  Mussulman  signed  to  him  to  ap- 
126 


Jew  turned  Turk  127 

proach,  and  inquired  his  fare.  After  some 
bargaining,  the  Turk  entered  the  caique,  and 
the  boatman  still  held  on  to  the  pier  in  the 
hope  of  securing  a  third  passenger,  which, 
after  a  very  short  time,  he  did.  The  third 
passenger  happened  to  be  a  Jew,  who  had  for 
saken  his  faith  for  that  of  Islam. 

This  converted  individual  saw  at  a  glance 
that  one  of  his  fellow-passengers  was  a  Mos 
lem  and  the  other  a  Jew,  and  wishing  to  gain 
favor  in  the  eyes  of  the  former,  he  called  the 
other  a  '  Yahoudi '  (meaning  Jew,  but  usually 
employed  as  a  term  of  disdain)  and  told  him 
to  make  room  for  him.  This  the  Jew  meekly 
did,  without  a  murmur,  and  the  Caiquedji 
bent  his  oars  for  the  Asiatic  shore.  The  con 
verted  Jew  and  the  Turk  started  a  conversation, 
which  they  kept  up  till  within  a  short  distance 
of  Scutari,  when  the  Turk  turned  and  said  to 
the  Jew,  who  had  humbly  been  sitting  on  the 
low  seat  with  bowed  head  and  closed  eyes: 

"And  what  have  you  to  say  on  the  subject, 
Moses?" 


128  Jew  turned  Turk 

"Alas!  Pasha  Effendi,"  answered  the  Jew, 
"I  have  been  asleep,  and  have  not  followed 
your  conversation;  and  if  I  had,  what  worth 
could  my  opinion  be,  I,  a  poor  Jew?" 

The  converted  Jew  then  said :  "  At  least,  you 
can  tell  us,  to  pass  the  time,  where  you  have 
been  in  your  sleep?"  and  he  burst  out  laugh 
ing,  thinking  it  a  capital  joke. 

"I  dreamt  I  was  in  Paradise,"  replied  the 
poor  Jew.  "  Oh !  it  was  wonderful !  There 
were  three  great  golden  gates,  and  on  the 
inside,  at  the  side  of  the  keeper  of  each  gate, 
stood  Mohammed  at  one,  Moses  at  the  other, 
and  Jesus  at  the  third.  No  one  was  allowed 
to  pass  into  Paradise,  unless  Mohammed, 
Moses,  or  Jesus  gave  the  order  that  they 
should  pass.  At  Mohammed's  gate  a  man 
knocked,  and  on  being  opened,  the  keeper 
asked : 

"'What  is  your  name?  '  to  which  he  replied, 
'Ahmet/ 

"'And  your  father's  name?'  again  asked 
the  keeper.  '  Abdullah. ' 


Jew  turned  Turk  129 

"  And  the  prophet  signed  with  his  hand  that 
he  might  enter. 

"  I  then  went  to  the  gate  where  Jesus  stood, 
and  heard  the  same  questions  put  to  an  appli 
cant.  He  told  the  keeper  that  his  name  was 
Aristide,  and  that  his  father's  name  was  Vas- 
sili,  and  Jesus  permitted  him  to  enter. 

"Hearing  a  loud  knocking  at  Mohammed's 
gate  again,  I  hurried  to  see  who  the  important 
comer  was.  There  stood  a  man  of  confident 
mien,  who  proudly  answered  that  his  name  was 
Hussein  Effendi. 

"'And  your  father's  name?'  asked  the 
keeper.  'Abraham,'  replied  Hussein.  At 
this  Mohammed  said:  'Shut  the  door;  you 
can't  enter  here;  mixtures  will  not  do.'" 

"  Eh !  What  happened  next  ?  "  asked  the  Turk. 

"  Just  then,  as  the  gate  was  shutting,  I  heard 
your  voice  and  \  awoke,  Pasha  Effendi," 
answered  the  Jew;  "and  so  I  can't  tell  you." 

And  as  they  approached  the  Scala  (landing), 
they  disembarked  at  Scutari  and  separated 
without  a  word. 


THE   METAMORPHOSIS 

JUSSEIN  AGHA  was  much  troubled 
in  spirit  and  mind.  He  had 
saved  a  large  sum  of  money  in 
order  that  he  might  make  the 
pilgrimage  to  Mecca.  What  troubled  him 
was,  that  after  having  carefully  provided  for 
all  the  expenses  of  this  long  journey  there 
still  remained  a  few  hundred  piasters  over  and 
above.  What  was  he  to  do  with  these  ?  True, 
they  could  be  distributed  amongst  the  poor, 
but  then,  might  not  he,  on  his  return,  require 
the  money  for  even  a  more  meritorious 
purpose  ? 

After   much  consideration,  he  decided  that 

it  was  not  Allah's  wish  that  he  should  at  once 

give   this   money   in   charity.     On    the   other 

hand,   he  felt  convinced   that  he  should  not 

130 


The  Metamorphosis  131 

give  it  to  a  brother  for  safe  keeping,  as  he 
might  be  inspired,  during  Hussein's  pilgrim 
age,  to  spend  it  on  some  charitable  purpose. 
After  a  time  he  thought  of  a  kindly  Jew  who 
was  his  neighbor,  and  decided  to  leave  his 
savings  in  the  hands  of  this  man,  to  whom 
Allah  had  been  good,  seeing  that  his  posses 
sions  were  great.  After  mature  thought  he 
decided  not  to  put  temptation  in  the  way  of 
his  neighbor.  He  therefore  secured  a  jar,  at 
the  bottom  of  which  he  placed  a  small  bag 
containing  his  surplus  of  wealth,  and  filled 
it  with  olives.  This  he  carried  to  his  neigh 
bor,  and  begged  him  to  take  care  of  it  for  him. 
Ben  Moise  of  course  consented,  and  Hussein 
Agha  departed  on  his  pilgrimage,  contented. 

On  his  return  from  the  Holy  Land,  Hus 
sein,  now  a  Hadji,  repaired  to  Ben  Moi'se  and 
asked  for  his  jar  of  olives,  and  at  the  same 
time  presented  Ben  Moise  with  a  rosary  of 
Yemen  stones,  in  recognition  of  the  service 
rendered  him  in  the  safe  keeping  of  the 
olives,  which,  he  said,  were  exceptionally 


132  The  Metamorphosis 

palatable.  Ben  Moi'se  thanked  him,  and 
Hadji  Hussein  departed  with  his  jar,  well 
satisfied. 

During  the  absence  of  Hussein  Agha,  it 
happened  that  Ben  Moi'se  had  some  distin 
guished  visitors,  to  whom,  as  is  the  Eastern 
custom,  he  served  raki.  Unfortunately,  how 
ever,  he  had  no  me*z£  (appetizer)  to  offer,  as 
is  also  the  custom  in  the  East.  Ben  Moi'se 
bethought  him  of  the  olives  and  immediately 
went  to  the  cellar,  opened  the  jar,  and  ex 
tracted  some  of  them,  saying :  "  Olives  are  not 
rare;  Hussein  will  never  know  the  difference 
if  I  replace  them." 

The  olives  were  found  excellent,  and  Ben 
Moi'se  again  and  again  helped  his  friends  to 
them.  Great  was  his  surprise  when  he  found 
that  instead  of  olives,  he  brought  forth  a  bag 
containing  a  quantity  of  gold.  Ben  Moi'se 
could  not  understand  this  phenomenon,  but 
appropriated  the  gold  and  held  his  peace. 

Arriving  home,  poor  Hussein  Agha  was  dis 
tracted  to  find  that  his  jar  contained  nothing 


The  Metamorphosis  133 

but  olives.  Vainly  did  he  protest  to  Ben 
Moise. 

"My  friend,"  he  would  reply,  "you  gave  me 
the  jar,  saying  it  contained  olives.  I  believed 
you  and  kept  the  jar  safe  for  you.  Now  you 
say  that  in  the  jar  you  had  put  some  money 
together  with  the  olives;  perhaps  you  did,  but 
is  not  that  the  jar  you  gave  me?  If,  as  you 
say,  there  was  gold  in  the  jar  and  it  is  now 
gone,  all  I  can  say  is,  the  stronger  has  overcome 
the  weaker,  and  that  in  this  case  the  gold  has 
either  been  converted  into  olives  or  into  oil. 
What  can  I  do?  The  jar  you  gave  me  I  re 
turned  to  you." 

Hadji  Hussein  admitted  this,  and  fully 
appreciated  that  he  had  no  case  against  the 
Jew,  so  saying :  '  Chok  shai ! '  he  returned  to 
his  home. 

That  night  Hussein  mingled  in  his  prayers  a 
vow  to  recover  his  gold  at  no  matter  what  cost 
or  trouble. 

In  his  younger  days  Hadji  Hussein  had 
been  a  pipe-maker,  and  many  were  the  chi- 


134  'The  Metamorphosis 

books  of  exceptional  beauty  that  he  had  made. 
Go  but  to  the  potters '  lane  at  Tophane,  and 
the  works  of  art  displayed  by  the  majority  of 
them  have  been  fashioned  by  the  hands  of 
Hussein.  The  art  that  had  fed  him  for  years 
was  now  to  be  the  means  of  recovering  his 
money. 

Hadji  Hussein  daily  met  Ben  Moi'se  but  he 
never  again  referred  to  the  money,  and  fur 
ther,  Hussein's  sons  were  always  in  company 
with  Ben  Moi'se' s  only  son,  a  lad  of  ten. 

Time  passed,  and  Ben  Moi'se  entirely  forgot 
about  the  jar,  olives,  and  gold;  not  so  Hadji 
Hussein.  He  had  been  working.  First  he 
had  made  an  effigy  of  Ben  Moi'se.  When  he 
had  completed  this  image  to  his  satisfaction, 
he  dressed  it  in  the  identical  manner  and 
costume  the  Jew  habitually  wore.  He  then 
purchased  a  monkey.  This  monkey  was  kept 
in  a  cage  opposite  the  effigy  of  Ben  Moi'se. 
Twice  a  day  regularly  the  monkey's  food  was 
placed  on  the  shoulders  of  the  Jew,  and  Hus 
sein  would  open  the  cage,  saying:  "Babai  git" 


The  Metamorphosis  135 

(go  to  your  father).  At  a  bound  the  monkey 
would  plant  himself  on  the  shoulders  of  the 
Jew,  and  would  not  be  dislodged  until  its 
hunger  had  been  satisfied. 

In  the  meantime  Hadji  Hussein  and  Ben 
Moi'se  were  greater  friends  than  ever,  and 
their  children  were  likewise  playmates.  One 
day  Hussein  took  Ben  Moi'se 's  son  to  his 
Harem  and  told  him,  much  to  the  lad's  joy, 
that  he  was  to  be  their  guest  for  a  week. 
Later  on  Ben  Moi'se  called  on  Hadji  Hussein 
to  know  the  reason  of  his  son's  not  returning 
as  usual  at  sundown. 

"Ah,  my  friend,"  said  Hussein,  "a  great 
calamity  has  befallen  you!  Your  son,  alas! 
has  been  converted  into  a  monkey,  a  furious 
monkey !  So  furious  that  I  was  compelled  to 
put  him  into  a  cage.  Come  and  see  for 
yourself." 

No  sooner  did  Ben  Moi'se  enter  the  room  in 
which  the  caged  monkey  was,  than  it  set  up 
a  howl,  not  having  had  any  food  that  day. 
Poor  Ben  Moi'se  was  thunderstruck,  and  Hadji 


136  The  Metamorphosis 

Hussein    begged    him    to   take    the    monkey 
away. 

Next  day  Hussein  was  summoned  to  the 
court,  the  case  of  Ben  Moise  was  heard,  and 
the  Hadji  was  ordered  to  return  the  child  at 
once.  This  he  vowed  he  could  not  do,  and 
to  convince  the  judges  he  offered  to  bring  the 
monkey  caged  as  it  was  to  the  court,  and, 
Inshallah,  they  would  see  for  themselves  that 
the  child  of  the  Jew  had  been  converted  into 
a  monkey.  This  was  ultimately  agreed  to, 
and  the  monkey  was  brought.  Hadji  Hussein 
took  special  care  to  place  the  cage  opposite 
Ben  Moi'se,  and  no  sooner  did  the  monkey 
catch  sight  of  him  than  it  set  up  a  scream, 
and  the  judges  said  :  '  Chok  shai ! '  Hussein 
Agha  then  opened  the  cage  door,  saying :  "  Go 
to  your  father,"  and  the  monkey  with  a  bound 
and  a  yell  embraced  Ben  Moise,  putting  his 
head,  in  search  of  food,  first  on  one  shoulder 
of  the  Jew  and  then  on  the  other.  The  judges 
were  thunderstruck,  and  declared  their  incom- 
petency  to  give  judgment  in  such  a  case.  Ben 


The  Metamorphosis  137 

Moise  protested,  saying  that  it  was  against  the 
laws  of  nature  for  such  a  metamorphosis  to 
take  place,  whereupon  Hadji  Hussein  told  the 
judges  of  an  analogous  instance  of  some  gold 
pieces  turning  into  olives,  and  called  upon 
Ben  Moise  to  witness  the  veracity  of  his  state 
ment.  The  judges,  much  perplexed,  dismissed 
the  case,  declaring  that  provision  had  not  been 
made  in  the  law  for  it,  and  there  being  no 
precedent  to  their  knowledge  they  were  in 
competent  to  give  judgment. 

Leaving  the  court,  Hadji  Hussein  informed 
Ben  Moise  that  there  would  still  be  pleasure 
and  happiness  in  this  world  for  him,  provided 
he  could  reconvert  the  olives  into  gold. 
Needless  to  add  that  Ben  Moise  handed  the 
money  to  Hadji  Hussein,  and  the  heir  of  Ben 
Moise  returned  to  his  home  none  the  worse 
for  his  transformation. 


THE   CALIF   OMAR 

2>HE  Calif  Omar,  one  of  the  first 
Califs  after  the  Prophet,  is  deeply 
venerated  to  this  day,  and  is  con 
tinually  quoted  as  a  lover  of  truth 
and  justice.  Often  in  the  face  of  appalling 
evidence  he  refrained  from  judgment,  thus 
liberating  the  innocent  and  punishing  the 
guilty.  The  following  is  given  as  an  example 
of  his  perseverance  in  fathoming  a  murder. 

At  the  feast  of  the  Passover,  a  certain  Jew 
of  Bagdad  had  sacrificed  his  sheep  and  was 
offering  up  his  prayers,  when  suddenly  a  dog 
came  in,  and  snatching  up  the  sheep's  head 
ran  off  with  it.  The  Jew  pursued  in  hot  haste, 
in  his  excitement  still  carrying  the  bloody 
knife  and  wearing  his  besmeared  apron.  The 
dog,  carrying  the  sheep's  head,  rushed  into  an 
138 


The  Calif  Omar  139 

open  doorway,  followed  closely  by  the  Jew. 
The  Jew  in  his  hurried  pursuit  fell  over  the 
body  of  what  proved  to  be  a  murdered  man. 
The  murder  was  laid  against  the  Jew,  and 
witnesses  swore  that  they  had  seen  him  coming 
out  of  the  house  covered  with  blood,  and  in 
his  hand  a  bloody  dagger.  The  Jew  was  ar 
rested  and  tried,  but  with  covered  head  he 
swore  by  his  forefathers  and  children  that  he 
was  innocent.  Omar  would  not  condemn 
him  as  none  of  the  witnesses  had  seen  the 
Jew  do  the  deed,  and  until  further  evidence 
had  been  given  to  prove  his  guilt  the  case 
was  adjourned.  Spies  and  detectives,  un 
known  to  anybody,  were  put  to  track  the 
murderers.  After  a  time  they  were  discov 
ered,  condemned,  put  to  death,  and  the  Jew 
liberated. 


KALAIDJI   AVRAM   OF   BALATA 


BALATA,    situated    on    the    Golden 
Horn,    is     mostly    inhabited     by 
Jews   of   the  poorer  classes,   who 
make     their    livelihood     as     tin 
smiths,  tinkers,  and  hawkers. 

Here,  in  the  early  days  when  the  Janissaries 
flourished,  there  lived  a  certain  tinsmith 
called  Kalaidji  Avram.  Having  rather  an 
extensive  business,  his  neighbors,  especially 
those  who  lived  nearest,  were  always  complain 
ing  of  the  annoying  smoke  and  disagreeable 
odor  of  ammonia  which  he  used  in  tinning 
his  pots  and  pans. 

Opposite  Avram 's  place  the  village  guard 
house  was  situated,  and  the  chief,  a  Janissary, 
often    had    disputes   with   Avram    about    the 
smoke.      Avram  would  invariably  reply:    "I 
140 


Kalaidji  Avram  of  Balata  141 

have  my  children  to  feed  and  I  must  work; 
and  without  smoke  I  cannot  earn  their  daily 
bread." 

The  Janissary,  much  annoyed,  cultivated  a 
dislike  for  Avram  and  a  thirst  for  revenge. 

It  happened  that  a  Jew  one  day  came  to  the 
Janissary  and  said  to  him:  "Do  you  want  to 
make  a  fortune?  if  so,  you  have  the  means  of 
doing  this,  provided  you  will  agree  to  halve 
with  me  whatever  is  made." 

The  Janissary,  on  being  assured  that  he  had 
but  to  say  a  word  or  two  to  a  person  he  would 
designate  and  the  money  would  be  forthcom 
ing,  accepted  the  conditions.  The  Jew  then 
said:  "All  you  have  to  do  is  to  go  up  to  a 
Jewish  funeral  procession  that  will  pass  by 
here  to-morrow  on  its  way  to  the  necropolis 
outside  the  city,  and  order  it  to  stop.  It  is 
against  the  religion  of  the  Jews  for  such  a 
thing  to  happen,  and  the  Chacham  (rabbi) 
will  offer  you  first  ten,  then  twenty,  and  finally 
one  hundred  and  ten  thousand  piasters  to 
allow  the  funeral  to  proceed.  The  half  will  be 


142  Kalaidji  Avram  of  Batata 

for  you  to  compensate  you  for  your  trouble  and 
the  other  fifty-five  thousand  piasters  for  me." 

This,  as  the  Jew  had  told  him,  seemed  very 
simple  to  the  Janissary.  The  next  day,  true 
enough,  he  beheld  a  funeral,  and  immediately 
went  out  and  ordered  it  to  stop.  The  Cha- 
cham  protested,  offering  first  small  bribes, 
then  larger  and  larger,  till  ultimately  he 
promised  to  bring  to  the  worthy  captain  one 
hundred  and  ten  thousand  piasters  for  allow 
ing  the  funeral  to  proceed. 

That  evening,  as  agreed,  the  Chacham  came 
and  handed  the  money  to  the  captain  of  the 
Janissaries.  Then  taking  another  bag  con 
taining  a  second  one  hundred  and  ten  thou 
sand  piasters,  he  said:  "If  you  will  tell  me 
who  informed  you  that  we  would  pay  so  much 
money  rather  than  have  a  funeral  stopped, 
you  can  have  this  further  sum." 

The  Janissary  immediately  bethought  him  of 
Avram,  the  tinsmith,  and  accused  him  as  his 
informant,  and  the  Chacham,  satisfied,  paid 
the  sum  and  departed. 


Kalaidji  Avram  of  Balata  143 

Avram  disappeared  nobody  knew  where. 
The  Chacham  said  that  death  had  taken  him 
for  his  own  as  a  punishment  for  stopping  him 
while  on  a  journey. 

The  accomplice  of  the  Janissary  came  a  few 
days  later  for  his  share  of  the  money.  The 
Janissary  handed  him  the  fifty-five  thousand 
piasters,  and  at  the  same  time  said:  "Of 
these  fifty-five  thousand  piasters,  thirty  thou 
sand  must  be  given  to  the  widow  and  children 
of  Avram,  and  I  advise  you  to  give  it  will 
ingly,  for  Avram  has  taken  your  place." 


HOW  MEHMET  ALI   PASHA  OF  EGYPT 
ADMINISTERED   JUSTICE 

JEWISH  merchant  was  in  the  habit 
of  borrowing,  and  sometimes  of 
lending  money  to  an  Armenian 
merchant  of  Cairo.  Receipts  were 
never  exchanged,  but  at  the  closing  of  an  old 
account  or  the  opening  of  a  new  one  they  would 
simply  say  to  each  other,  I  have  debited  or 
credited  you  in  my  books,  as  the  case  might 
be,  with  so  much. 

On  one  occasion  the  Armenian  lent  the  Jew 
the  sum  of  twenty-five  thousand  piasters,  and 
after  the  usual  verbal  acknowledgment  the 
Armenian  made  his  entry.  A  reasonable  time 
having  elapsed,  the  Armenian  sent  his  greet 
ings  to  the  Jew.  This,  in  Eastern  etiquette, 
meant,  'Kindly  pay  me  what  you  owe.'  The 
Jew,  however,  did  not  take  the  hint  but  re- 
144 


How  Mehmet  All  administered  Justice     145 

turned  complimentary  greetings  to  the  Ar 
menian.  This  was  repeated  several  times. 
Finally,  the  Armenian  sent  a  message  request 
ing  the  Jew  to  call  upon  him.  The  Jew, 
however,  told  the  messenger  to  inform  the 
Armenian  merchant,  that  if  he  wished  to  see 
him,  he  must  come  to  his  house.  The  Ar 
menian  called  upon  the  Jew,  and  requested 
payment  of  the  loan.  The  Jew  brought  out 
his  books  and  showed  the  Armenian  that  he 
was  both  credited  and  debited  with  the  sum 
of  twenty-five  thousand  piasters.  The  Arme 
nian  protested,  but  in  vain;  the  Jew  main 
tained  that  the  debt  had  been  paid. 

In  the  hope  of  recovering  his  money,  the 
Armenian  had  the  case  brought  before  Meh 
met  Ali  Pasha  of  Egypt,  a  clever  and  learned 
judge.  No  witnesses,  however,  could  be  cited 
to  prove  that  the  money  had  either  been  bor 
rowed  or  repaid.  The  entries  were  verified, 
and  it  was  thought  that  perhaps  the  Armenian 
had  forgotten.  Before  dismissing  the  case, 
however,  Mehmet  Ali  Pasha  called  in  the 


146     How  Mehmet  All  administered  Justice 

Public  Weigher  and  ordered  that  both  the 
Armenian  and  Jewish  merchants  be  weighed. 
This  done,  Mehmet  AH  Pasha  took  note  of 
their  respective  weights.  The  Jew  weighed 
fifty  okes  and  the  Armenian  sixty  okes.  He 
then  discharged  them,  saying  that  he  would 
send  for  them  later  on. 

The  Armenian  waited  patiently  for  a  month 
or  two,  but  no  summons  came  from  the  Pasha. 
Every  Friday  he  endeavored  to  meet  the  Pasha 
so  as  to  bring  the  case  to  his  mind,  but  with 
out  avail;  for  the  Pasha,  perceiving  him  from 
a  distance,  would  turn  away  his  head  or  other 
wise  purposely  avoid  catching  his  eye.  At 
last,  after  about  eight  months  of  anxious  wait 
ing,  the  Armenian  and  the  Jew  were  sum 
moned  to  appear  before  the  court.  Mehmet 
Ali  Pasha,  in  opening  the  case,  called  in  the 
Public  Weigher  and  had  them  weighed  again. 
On  this  occasion  it  was  found  that  the  Ar 
menian  had  decreased,  now  only  weighing 
fifty  okes,  for  worry  makes  a  man  grow  thin; 
but  the  Jew,  on  the  contrary,  had  put  on 


How  Mehmet  Ali  administered  Justice     147 

several  okes.  These  facts  were  gravely  con 
sidered,  and  the  Pasha  accused  the  Jew  of 
having  received  the  money  and  at  once  or 
dered  the  brass  pot  to  be  heated  and  placed 
on  his  head  to  force  confession.  The  Jew 
did  not  care  to  submit  to  this  fearful  ordeal, 
so  he  confessed  that  he  had  not  repaid  the 
debt,  and  had  to  do  so  then  and  there. 


HOW  THE  FARMER  LEARNED  TO  CURE 
HIS  WIFE  —  A  TURKISH 


2>HERE  once  lived  a  farmer  who  un 
derstood  the  language  of  animals. 
He  had  obtained  this  knowledge 
on  condition  that  he  would  never 
reveal  its  possession,  and  with  the  further  pro 
vision  that  should  he  prove  false  to  his  oath 
the  penalty  would  be  certain  death. 

One  day  he  chanced  to  listen  to  a  conver 
sation  his  ox  and  his  horse  were  having.  The 
ox  had  just  come  in  from  a  weary  and  hard 
day's  work  in  the  rain. 

"Oh,"  sighed  the  ox,  looking  over  to  the 
horse,  "how  fortunate  you  are  to  have  been 
born  a  horse  and  not  an  ox.  When  the 
weather  is  bad  you  are  kept  in  the  stable, 
well  fed,  groomed  every  morning,  and  caressed 
every  evening.  Oh  that  I  were  a  horse  !  " 
148 


How  the  Farmer  cured  his  Wife      149 

"What  you  say  is  true,'*  replied  the  horse, 
"but  you  are  very  stupid  to  work  so  hard." 

"You  do  not  know  what  it  is  to  be  goaded 
with  a  spear  and  howled  at,  or  you  would  not 
accuse  me  of  being  stupid  to  work  so  hard," 
replied  the  ox. 

"Then  why  don't  you  feign  sickness,"  con 
tinued  the  horse. 

On  the  following  day  the  ox  determined  to 
try  this  deceit,  but  he  was  stung  with  remorse 
when  he  saw  the  horse  led  out  to  take  his 
place  at  the  plough.  In  the  evening,  when 
the  horse  was  brought  to  the  stable  very  tired, 
the  ox  sympathized  with  him,  and  regretted 
his  being  the  cause,  but  at  the  same  time 
expressed  astonishment  at  his  working  so  hard. 

"Ah,  my  friend,  I  had  to  work  hard;  I 
can't  bear  the  whip;  the  thought  of  the 
hideous  crack!  crack!  makes  me  shiver  even 
now,"  answered  the  horse. 

"But  leaving  that  aside,  my  poor  horned 
friend,"  proceeded  the  horse,  "I  am  now 
most  anxious  for  you.  I  heard  the  master 


150      How  the  Farmer  cured  his  Wife 

say  to-night  that  if  you  were  not  well  in  the 
morning,  the  butcher  was  to  come  and  slaugh 
ter  you." 

"You  need  not  worry  about  me,  friend 
horse,"  said  the  ox,  "as  I  much  prefer  the 
yoke  to  chewing  the  cud  of  self-reproach." 

At  this  point  the  farmer  left  the  animals 
and  entered  his  home,  smiling  at  his  own  wily 
craft  in  re-establishing,  if  not  contentedness, 
at  least  resignation  to  their  fate,  in  the  stable. 
Meeting  his  wife,  she  at  once  inquired  as 
to  the  cause  of  his  happy  smile.  He  put 
her  off,  first  with  one  excuse  then  with  an 
other,  but  to  no  avail;  the  more  he  protested, 
the  stronger  her  inquisitiveness  grew.  Her 
unsatisfied  curiosity  at  length  made  her  ill. 
The  endeavors  of  the  numerous  doctors 
brought  to  her  assistance  were  as  futile  as 
the  incantations  of  the  sages  from  far  and 
near,  and  as  powerless  to  remove  the  spell 
as  were  the  amulets,  the  charms,  and  the 
abracadabras  conceived  and  written  by  holy 
men.  The  evil  prompting  gnawed  her, 


How  the  Farmer  cured  his  Wife      151 

and  she  visibly  pined  away.  The  poor 
farmer  was  distracted.  Rather  than  see  her 
die,  he  at  last  decided  to  tell  her,  and 
forfeit  his  own  life  to  save  hers.  Deeply  de 
jected,  for  no  man  quits  this  planet  without 
a  pang,  he  sat  at  the  window  gazing,  as  he 
thought,  for  the  last  time  on  the  familiar 
surroundings.  Of  a  sudden  he  noticed  his 
favorite  chanticleer,  followed  by  his  numerous 
harem,  sadly  strutting  about,  only  allowing 
his  favorites  to  eat  the  morsels  he  discovered, 
and  ruthlessly  driving  the  others  away.  To 
one  he  said :  "  I  am  not  like  our  poor  master, 
to  be  ruled  by  one  or  a  score  of  you.  He,  poor 
man,  will  die  to-day  for  revealing  his  secret 
knowledge  to  save  her  life." 

"What  is  the  secret  knowledge?"  asked  one 
of  the  wives;  and  the  chanticleer  flew  at  her 
and  thrashed  her  mercilessly,  saying  at  each 
vigorous  blow,  "That  is  the  secret,  and  if  our 
master  only  treated  the  mistress  as  I  treat  you, 
he  would  not  need  to  give  up  his  life  to-day." 

And  as  if  maddened  at  the  thought,  he  beat 


152      How  the  Farmer  cured  his  Wife 

them  all  in  turn.  The  master,  seeing  and 
appreciating  the  effect  from  the  window, 
went  to  his  wife  and  treated  her  in  precisely 
the  same  manner.  And  this  effected  what 
neither  doctors,  sages,  nor  holy  men  could 
do  —  it  cured  her. 


THE   LANGUAGE   OF   BIRDS 

&HERE  once  lived  a  Hodja  who,  it 
was  said,  understood  the  language 
of  birds,  but  refused  to  impart  his 
knowledge.  One  young  man  was 
very  persistent  in  his  desire  to  know  the  lan 
guage  of  these  sweet  creatures,  but  the  Hodja 
was  inflexible. 

In  despair,  the  young  man  went  to  the 
woods  at  least  to  listen  to  the  pleasant  chirp 
ing  of  the  birds.  By  degrees  it  conveyed  to 
him  a  meaning,  till,  finally,  he  understood 
them  to  tell  him  that  his  horse  would  die. 
On  returning  from  the  woods,  he  imme 
diately  sold  his  horse  and  went  and  told  the 
Hodja. 

"Oh  Hodja,  why  will  you  not  teach  me  the 
language  of  birds?  Yesterday  I  went  to  the 


154  The  Language  of  Birds 

woods  and  they  warned  me  that  my  horse 
would  die,  thus  affording  me  an  opportunity 
of  selling  it  and  avoiding  the  loss." 

The  Hodja  was  silent,  but  would  not  give 
way. 

The  following  day  the  young  man  again 
went  to  the  woods,  and  the  chirping  of  the 
birds  told  him  that  his  house  would  be  burned. 
The  young  man  hurried  away,  sold  his  house, 
again  went  to  the  Hodja  and  told  him  all  that 
had  happened,  adding: 

"See,  Hodja  Effendi,  you  would  not  teach 
me  the  language  of  the  birds,  but  I  have  saved 
my  horse  and  my  house  by  listening  to  them." 

On  the  following  day,  the  young  man  again 
went  to  the  woods,  and  the  birds  chirped  him 
the  doleful  tale,  that  on  the  following  day  he 
would  die.  In  tears  the  young  man  went  to 
the  Hodja  for  advice. 

"  Oh  Hodja  Effendi !  Alas !  What  am  I  to 
do?  The  birds  have  told  me  that  to-morrow 
I  must  die." 

"My  son,"  answered  the  Hodja,   "I  knew 


The  Language  of  Birds  155 

this  would  come,  and  that  is  why  I  refused  to 
teach  you  the  language  of  birds.  Had  you 
borne  the  loss  of  your  horse,  your  house  would 
have  been  saved,  and  had  your  house  been 
burned,  your  life  would  have  been  saved." 


THE   SWALLOW'S  ADVICE 

MAN  one  day  saw  a  swallow  and 
caught  it.  The  bird  pleaded  hard 
for  liberty,  saying: 

"If  thou  wilt  let  me  go,  thy 
gain  will  be  great,  for  I  will  give  thee  three 
counsels  that  will  hereafter  be  of  use  to  thee." 
The  man  listened  to  the  bird  and  let  it  go. 
Flying  to  a  tree  close  by  it  perched  on  a 
branch,  and  said: 

"Hearken  and  give  thine  ear  to  the  three 
advices  that  will  guide  thee.  The  first  is,  do 
not  believe  things  that  are  incredible;  the 
second  is,  do  not  attempt  to  stretch  out  thine 
hand  to  a  place  thou  art  unable  to  reach;  and 
the  third  advice  I  give  thee  is,  do  not  pine 
after  a  thing  that  is  past  and  gone.  Take 
these  my  counsels  and  do  not  forget  them." 
156 


The  Swallow's  Advice  157 

The  bird  then  tempted  the  man,  saying: 
"Inside  of  me  there  is  a  large  pearl  of  great 
value;  it  is  both  magnificent  and  splendid, 
and  as  large  as  the  egg  of  a  kite." 

Now,  hearing  this,  the  man  repented  at 
having  let  the  bird  go,  the  color  of  his  face 
went  to  sadness,  and  he  at  once  stretched  out 
his  hand  to  catch  the  swallow,  but  the  latter 
said  to  the  foolish  man: 

"What!  Hast  thou  already  forgotten  the 
advice  I  gave  thee,  and  the  lie  which  I  told 
thee,  hast  thou  considered  as  true?  I  had 
fallen  into  thy  hands,  yet  thou  wert  unable  to 
retain  me,  and  now  thou  art  sorrowing  for 
the  past  for  which  there  is  no  remedy." 

Such  are  those  that  worship  idols,  and  give 
the  name  of  God  to  their  own  handiwork. 
They  have  left  aside  God  Almighty,  and  have 
forgotten  the  Great  Bestower  of  all  good  gifts. 


WE   KNOW   NOT  WHAT  THE   DAWN 
MAY   BRING   FORTH 

|N  the  age  of  the  Janissaries  the  Min 
ister  of  War,  in  all  haste,  called 
the  chief  farrier  of  the  Army  and 
ordered  him  to  have  made  im 
mediately  two  hundred  thousand  horseshoes. 
The  farrier  was  aghast,  and  explained  that  to 
make  such  a  quantity  of  horseshoes,  both  time 
and  smiths  would  be  required.  The  Minister 
replied : 

"It  is  the  order  of  his  Majesty  that  these 
two  hundred  thousand  horseshoes  be  ready  by 
to-morrrow;  if  not,  your  head  will  pay  the 
penalty." 

The  poor  farrier  replied,  that  knowing  now 

that  he  was  doomed    he   would    be    unable, 

through  nervousness,  to  make  even  a  fifth  of 

the  number.     The  Minister  would  not   listen 

158 


We  know  not  what  the  Dawn  may  Bring    159 

to  reason,  and  left  in  anger,  reiterating   the 
order  of  his  Majesty. 

The  farrier  retired  to  his  rooms  deeply 
dejected.  His  wife,  woman-like,  endeavored 
to  encourage  and  comfort  him,  saying: 

"Cheer  up,  husband,  drink  your  raki,  eat 
your  me'ze',  and  be  cheerful,  for  we  know  not 
what  the  dawn  may  bring  forth." 

"Ah!"  said  the  farrier,  "the  dawn  will  not 
bring  forth  two  hundred  thousand  horseshoes, 
and  my  head  will  pay  the  penalty." 

Late  that  night  there  was  a  tremendous 
knocking  at  his  door.  The  poor  farrier 
thought  that  it  was  an  inquiry  as  to  how 
many  horseshoes  were  already  made,  and 
trembling  with  fear  went  and  opened  the  door. 
What  was  his  surprise,  when  on  opening  the 
door  and  inquiring  the  object  of  the  visit,  to 
be  greeted  with: 

"Haste,  farrier,  let  us  have  sixteen  nails, 
for  the  Minister  of  War  has  been  suddenly 
removed  to  Paradise  by  the  hand  of  Allah." 

The  farrier  gathered,  not  sixteen  but  forty 


160     We  know  not  what  the  Dawn  may  Bring 

nails  of  the  best  he  had,  and,  handing  them 
to  the  messenger,  said : 

"Nail  him  down  well,  friend,  so  that  he 
will  not  get  up  again,  for  had  not  this  hap 
pened,  the  nails  would  have  been  required  to 
keep  me  in  my  coffin." 


OLD   MEN   MADE  YOUNG 

jN  Psamatia,  an  ancient  Armenian 
village  situated  near  the  Seven 
Towers,  there  lived  a  certain 
smith,  whose  custom  it  was,  in 
contradiction  to  prescribed  rules,  to  curse  the 
devil  and  his  works  regularly  five  times  a  day 
instead  of  praying  to  God.  He  argued  that 
it  is  the  devil's  fault  that  man  had  need  to 
pray.  The  devil  was  angered  at  being  thus 
persistently  cursed,  and  decided  to  punish 
the  smith,  or  at  least  prevent  his  causing 
further  trouble. 

Taking  the  form  of  a  young  man  he  went  to 
the  smith  and  engaged  himself  as  an  appren 
tice.  After  a  time  the  devil  told  the  smith 
that  he  had  a  very  poor  and  mean  way  of 
earning  a  living,  and  that  he  would  show  him 


1 62  Old  Men  made  Young 

how  money  was  to  be  made.  The  smith 
asked  what  he,  a  young  apprentice,  could  do. 
Thereupon  the  devil  told  him  that  he  was 
endowed  with  a  great  gift :  the  power  to  make 
old  men  young  again.  Though  incredulous, 
after  continued  assurance  the  smith  allowed 
a  sign  to  be  put  above  his  door,  stating  that 
aged  people  could  here  be  restored  to  youth. 
This  extraordinary  sign  attracted  a  great  many, 
but  the  devil  asked  such  high  prices  that  most 
went  away,  preferring  age  to  parting  with  so 
much  money. 

At  last  one  old  man  agreed  to  pay  the  sum 
demanded  by  the  devil,  whereupon  he  was 
promptly  cast  into  the  furnace,  the  master- 
smith  blowing  the  bellows  for  a  small  remu 
neration.  After  a  time  of  vigorous  blowing 
the  devil  raked  out  a  young  man.  The  fame 
of  the  smith  extended  far  and  wide,  and  many 
were  the  aged  that  came  to  regain  their  youth. 
This  lucrative  business  went  on  for  some 
time,  and  at  last  the  smith,  thinking  to  him 
self  that  it  was  not  a  difficult  thing  to  throw 


Old  Men  made   Young  163 

a  man  into  the  furnace  and  rake  him  out  from 
the  ashes  restored  to  youth,  decided  to  do  away 
with  his  apprentice's  services,  but  kept  the  sign 
above  the  door. 

It  happened  that  the  captain  of  the  Janis 
saries,  who  was  a  very  aged  man,  came  to  him, 
and  after  bargaining  for  a  much  more  modest 
sum  than  his  apprentice  would  have  asked,  the 
smith  thrust  him  into  the  furnace  as  the  devil, 
his  apprentice,  used  to  do,  and  worked  at  the 
bellows.  He  afterwards  raked  in  the  fire  for 
the  young  man  but  he  only  raked  out  cinders 
and  ashes.  Great  was  his  consternation,  but 
what  could  he  do? 

The  devil  in  the  meantime  went  to  the  head 
of  the  Janissaries  and  the  police,  and  informed 
them  of  what  had  taken  place.  The  poor 
smith  was  arrested,  tried,  and  condemned  to 
be  bowstrung,  as  it  was  proved  that  the  Janis 
sary  was  last  seen  to  enter  his  shop. 

Just  as  the  smith  was  about  to  be  executed, 
the  devil  again  appeared  before  him  in  the  form 
of  the  discharged  apprentice,  and  asked  him  if 


164  Old  Men  made   Young 

he  wished  to  be  saved;  if  so,  that  he  could 
save  him,  but  on  one  condition  only,  —  that 
he  ceased  from  cursing  the  devil  five  times 
a  day  and  pray  as  other  Mussulmans  prayed. 
He  agreed.  Thereupon  the  apprentice  called 
in  a  loud  voice  to  those  who  were  about  to 
execute  him:  "What  will  you  of  this  man? 
He  has  not  killed  the  Janissary;  he  is  not 
dead,  for  I  have  just  seen  him  entering  his 
home."  This  was  found  to  be  true,  and  the 
smith  was  liberated,  learning  the  truth  of  the 
proverb,  'Curse  not  even  the  devil.' 


THE   BRIBE 

2HERE  once  lived  in  Stamboul  a 
man  and  wife  who  were  so  well 
mated  that  though  married  for  a 
number  of  years  their  life  was  one 
of  ideal  harmony.  This  troubled  the  devil 
very  much.  He  had  destroyed  the  peace  of 
home  after  home;  he  had  successfully  created, 
between  husband  and  wife,  father  and  son  and 
brothers,  the  chasm  of  envy  wide  and  deep, 
so  wide  that  the  bridge  of  life  could  not  span 
the  gap.  In  this  one  little  home  alone  did 
he  fail  in  spite  of  his  greatest  endeavor.  One 
day  the  devil  was  talking  to  an  old  woman, 
when  the  man  who  had  thus  far  baffled  him 
passed  by.  The  devil  groaned  at  the  thought 
of  his  repeated  failures.  Turning  to  the  old 
woman  he  said: 

165 


1 66  The  Bribe 

"  I  will  give  you  as  a  reward  a  pair  of  yellow 
slippers  if  you  make  that  man  quarrel  with  his 
wife." 

The  old  woman  was  delighted,  and  at  once 
began  to  scheme  and  work  for  the  coveted 
slippers.  At  an  hour  when  she  was  sure  to 
find  the  lady  alone,  she  went  and  solicited 
alms,  weeping  and  bemoaning  her  sad  fate  at 
being  a  lonely  old  woman  whose  husband  was 
long  since  dead.  She  appealed  to  the  lady 
for  compassion  in  proportion  as  she  hoped  for 
the  duration  of  the  cup  she  and  her  husband 
quaffed  in  undivided  happiness.  The  lady 
was  very  generous  to  the  old  woman,  each 
day  giving  her  something;  so  much  so,  that 
the  thought  that  her  good  husband  might 
think  her  extravagant  often  gave  her  some 
uneasiness. 

One  day  the  old  woman  looked  into  the 
shop-door  of  her  benefactress's  husband  and 
planted  the  first  evil  seed  by  calling  out: 

"Ah!  if  men  only  knew  where  the  money 
they  work  for  from  morning  till  night  goes,  or 


The  Bribe  167 

knew  what  their  wives  did  when  they  were 
away,  some  homes  would  not  be  so  happy." 

The  evil  woman  then  went  her  way,  and  the 
good  shopman  wondered  why  she  had  said 
these  words  to  him.  A  passing  thought  sug 
gested  that  it  was  strange  that  of  late  his  wife 
had  asked  him  several  times  for  a  few  extra 
piasters.  The  next  day,  the  old  woman  as 
usual  solicited  alms  of  her  victim.  In  the 
fulness  of  her  hypocrisy  she  embraced  the 
young  lady  before  departing,  taking  care  to 
leave  the  imprint  of  her  blackened  hand  on 
her  dupe's  back.  The  old  woman  then  again 
went  to  the  shop,  looked  at  her  victim's  hus 
band,  and  said: 

"  Oh !  how  blind  men  are !  They  only  look 
in  a  woman's  face  for  truth  and  loyalty;  they 
forget  to  look  at  the  back  where  the  stamp  of 
the  lover's  hand  is  to  be  seen." 

As  before,  the  old  woman  disappeared.  But 
the  mind  of  the  shopman  was  troubled  and 
his  heart  was  heavy.  In  this  oppressed  state  he 
went  to  his  home,  and  an  opportunity  offering 


1 68  The  Bribe 

he  looked  at  his  wife's  back,  and  was  aghast 
to  see  there  the  impression  of  a  hand.  He 
got  up  and  left  his  home,  a  broken-hearted 
man. 

The  devil  was  deeply  impressed  at  the  sig 
nal  success  of  the  old  woman,  and  hastened 
to  redeem  his  promise.  He  took  a  long  pole, 
tied  the  pair  of  slippers  at  the  end,  and  hur 
ried  off  to  the  old  woman.  Arriving  at  her 
house  he  called  out  to  her  to  open  the  win 
dow.  When  she  did  this,  he  thrust  in  the 
pair  of  yellow  slippers,  begging  her  to  take 
them,  but  not  to  come  near  him;  they  were 
hard-earned  slippers,  he  said;  she  had  suc 
ceeded  where  he  had  failed;  so  that  he  was 
afraid  of  her  and  was  anxious  to  keep  out  of 
her  way. 


HOW  THE    DEVIL    LOST    HIS    WAGER 

PEASANT,  ploughing  his  field,  was 
panting  with  fatigue,  when  the 
devil  appeared  before  him  and 
said: 

"Oh,  poor  man!  you  complain  of  your  lot, 
and  with  justice;  for  your  labor  is  not  that 
of  a  man,  but  is  as  heavy  as  that  of  a  beast  of 
burden.  Now  I  have  made  a  wager  that  I 
shall  find  a  contented  man;  so  give  me  the 
handle  of  your  plough  and  the  goad  of  your 
oxen,  that  I  may  do  the  work  for  you." 

The  peasant  consenting,  the  devil  touched 
the  oxen  and  in  one  turn  of  the  plough  all 
the  furrows  of  the  field  were  opened  up  and 
the  work  finished. 

"Is  it  well  done?"  asked  the  devil. 
169 


170          How  the  Devil  lost  his  Wager 

"Yes,"  replied  the  man,  "but  seed  is  very 
dear  this  year." 

In  answer  to  this,  the  devil  shook  his  long 
tail  in  the  air,  and  lo,  little  seeds  began  to 
fall  like  hail  from  the  sky. 

"I  hope,"  said  the  devil,  "that  I  have 
gained  my  wager." 

"Bah,"  answered  the  peasant,  "what's  the 
good  of  that?  These  seeds  might  be  lost. 
You  do  not  take  into  consideration  frost, 
blighting  winds,  drought,  damp,  storms, 
diseases  of  plants,  and  other  things.  How 
can  I  judge  as  yet?" 

"Behold,"  said  the  devil,  "in  this  box  are 
both  sun  and  rain,  take  it  and  use  it  as  you 
please." 

The  peasant  did  so  and  to  very  good  pur 
pose,  for  his  corn  soon  ripened  and  up  to  that 
time  he  had  never  seen  so  good  a  harvest. 
But  the  corn  of  his  neighbors  had  also  pros 
pered  from  the  rain  and  sun. 

At  harvest  time  the  devil  came,  and  saw 
that  the  man  was  looking  with  envious  eyes  at 


How  the  Devil  lost  his  Wager         171 

his  neighbor's  fields  where  the  corn  was  as 
good  as  his  own. 

"Have  you  been  able  to  obtain  what  you 
desired?"  asked  the  devil. 

"Alas!"  answered  the  man,  "all  the  barns 
will  break  down  under  the  weight  of  the 
sheaves.  The  grain  will  be  sold  at  a  low 
price.  This  fine  harvest  will  make  me  sit 
on  ashes." 

While  he  was  speaking,  the  devil  had  taken 
an  ear  of  corn  from  the  ground  and  was  crush 
ing  it  in  his  hand,  and  as  soon  as  he  blew  on 
the  grains  they  all  turned  into  pure  gold. 
The  peasant  took  up  one  and  examined  it 
attentively  on  all  sides,  and  then  in  a  despair 
ing  tone  cried  out:  "Oh,  my  God!  I  must 
spend  money  to  melt  all  these  and  send  them 
to  the  mint." 

The  devil  wrung  his  hands  in  despair.  He 
had  lost  his  wager.  He  could  do  everything, 
but  he  could  not  make  a  contented  man. 


THE   EFFECTS  OF   RAKI 


MUSTAFE,  who  lived  dur 
ing  the  reign  of  Sultan  Selim,  was 
a  celebrated  toper,  and  perhaps 
at  that  time  the  only  Moslem 
drunkard  in  Turkey.  Consequently,  he  was 
often  the  subject  of  conversation  in  circles 
both  high  and  low.  It  happened  that  his 
Majesty  the  Sultan  had  occasion  to  speak  to 
Bekri  one  day,  and  he  asked  him  what  pleasure 
he  found  in  drinking  so  much  raki,  and  why 
he  disobeyed  the  laws  of  the  Prophet.  Bekri 
replied  that  raki  was  a  boon  to  man;  that  it 
made  the  deaf  to  hear,  the  blind  to  see,  the 
lame  to  walk,  and  the  poor  rich,  and  that  he, 
Bekri,  when  drunk,  could  hear,  see,  and  walk 
like  two  Bekris.  The  Sultan,  to  verify  the 
truth  of  this  statement,  sent  his  servants  into 
172 


The  Effects  of  Raki  1 73 

the  highways  to  bring  four  men,  the  one  blind, 
the  other  deaf,  the  third  lame,  and  the  fourth 
poor.  Directly  these  were  brought,  his  Maj 
esty  ordered  raki  to  be  served  to  them  in 
company  with  Bekri.  They  had  not  been 
drinking  long  when,  to  the  glory  of  Bekri,  the 
deaf  man  said:  "I  hear  the  sound  of  great 
rumbling." 

And  the  blind  man  replied:  "I  can  see  him; 
it  is  an  enemy  who  seeks  our  destruction." 

The  lame  man  asked  where  he  was,  saying, 
"  Show  him  to  me,  and  I  will  quickly  despatch 
him." 

And  the  poor  man  called  out:  "Don't  be 
afraid  to  kill  him;  I've  got  his  blood  money 
in  my  pocket." 

Just  then  a  funeral  happened  to  pass  by  the 
Palace  buildings,  and  Bekri  got  up  and  or 
dered  the  solemn  procession  to  stop.  Re 
moving  the  lid  of  the  coffin,  he  whispered  a 
few  words  into  the  ear  of  the  dead  man,  and 
then  putting  his  ear  to  the  dead  man's  mouth, 
vented  an  exclamation  of  surprise.  He  then 


174  The  Effects  of  Raki 

ordered  the  funeral  to  proceed,  and  returned 
to  the  Palace. 

The  Sultan  asked  him  what  he  had  said  to 
the  dead  man,  and  what  the  dead  man  replied. 

"I  simply  asked  him  where  he  was  going 
and  from  what  he  had  died,  and  he  replied 
he  was  going  to  Paradise,  and  that  he  had 
died  from  drinking  raki  without  a  me'ze." 

Whereupon  the  Sultan  understanding  what 
he  wanted,  ordered  that  the  me"ze*  should  be 
immediately  served. 


ON  THE   FACE  OF   THE   WATERS. 


By  FLORA  ANNIE  STEEL, 

Author  of  "  Miss  Stuart's  Legacy ,"  "  Flower  of  Forgiveness" 
"  Red  Rowans"  "  Tales  from  the  Punjab"  etc.y  etc. 

i2mo.    Cloth.    $1.50. 

"  We  have  read  Mrs.  Steel's  book  with  ever-increasing  surprise  and 
admiration.  It  is  the  most  wonderful  picture.  We  know  that  none  who 
lived  through  the  mutiny  will  lay  it  down  without  a  gasp  of  admiration, 
and  believe  that  the  same  emotion  will  be  felt  by  thousands  to  whom  the 
scenes  depicted  are  but  lurid  phantasmagoria."  —  The  Spectator. 


TALES   OF  THE   PUNJAB 

TOLD  BY  THE  PEOPLE. 

By  MRS.  F.  A.  STEEL. 

With  Illustrations  by  J.  LOCKWOOD  KIPLING,  C.I.E.,  and  Notes 
by  R.  C.  TEMPLE. 

161110.    Cloth,  Gilt.    $2.00. 

"  A  book  that  will  be  welcomed  no  less  eagerly  by  the  children  than 
by  students  of  folklore  from  a  scientific  standpoint  is  Mrs.  Steel's  collec 
tion  of  Indian  stories,  entitled  '  Tales  of  the  Punjab.'  They  were  taken 
down  by  her  from  the  very  lips  of  the  natives  in  some  of  the  most  primi 
tive  districts  in  India.  Yet  these  tales,  handed  down  solely  by  word  of 
mouth  from  one  generation  to  another,  could  hardly  be  distinguished 
from  those  in  a  Teutonic  collection  like  that  of  the  Brothers  Grimm;  and 
even  closer  examination  serves  only  to  impress  upon  us  more  strongly 
than  ever  before  the  unity  of  the  great  Indo-European  family  of  na 
tions."  —  Nashville  Banner. 


THE   MACMILLAN    COMPANY, 

66  FIFTH  AVENUE,  HEW  YORK. 


UNIFORM    EDITION    OP    THE    STORIES    AND    POEMS 
OF  RUDYARD  KIPLING. 

Seven  Volumes,    izmo.    Cloth.    $1.25  each. 


PLAIN  TALES  FROM  THE  HILLS. 

"  Mr.  Kipling  knows  and  appreciates  the  English  in  India,  and  is  a 
born  story-teller  and  a  man  of  humor  into  the  bargain.  ...  It  would 
be  hard  to  find  better  reading." —  The  Saturday  Review,  London, 

THE  LIGHT  THAT  FAILED. 

"  '  The  Light  that  Failed '  is  an  organic  whole  —  a  book  with  a  back 
bone —  and  stands  out  boldly  among  the  nerveless,  flaccid,  invertebrate 
things  that  enjoy  an  expensive  but  ephemeral  existence  in  the  circulat 
ing  libraries." —  The  Athenceum. 

LIFE'S   HANDICAP. 
Stories  of  Mine  Own  People. 

"  No  volume  of  his  yet  published  gives  a  better  illustration  of  his 
genius,  and  of  the  weird  charm  which  has  given  his  stories  such  de 
served  popularity." —  Boston  Daily  Traveler. 

THE  NAULAHKA. 
A  Story  of  East  and  West. 

By  RUDYARD  KIPLING  and  WOLCOTT  BALESTIER. 

"  What  is  the  most  surprising,  and  at  the  same  time  most  admirable 


sympathy." 

UNDER  THE  DEODARS,  THE  PHANTOfl  'RICKSHAW, 
AND  WEE  WILLIE  WINKIE. 

With  additional  matter,  now  published  for  the  first  time. 

SOLDIERS  THREE,  THE  STORY  OF  THE  QADSBYS, 
and  BLACK  AND  WHITE. 

Also  together  with  additional  matter. 

BALLADS  AND  BARRACK-ROOfl  BALLADS. 

"  Mr.  Kipling  differs  from  other  ballad-writers  of  the  day  in  that  he 
has  that  rare  possession,  imagination,  and  he  has  the  temerity  to  speak 
out  what  is  in  him  with  no  conventional  reservations  or  deference  to  the 
hypocrisies  of  public  opinion."  —  Boston  Beacon. 


THE    MACMILLAN    COMPANY, 

66  FIFTH  AVENUE,  NEW  YORK. 


P; 


